Quotes from John Irving

Unrevised, real life is just a mess.

The autobiography part isn't what matters," I began, before I got bogged down in all the amalgams. The

HERE is the epilogue; there always is one. In a world where love and sorrow float, there are many epilogues—and some of them go on and on. In a world where doom always muscles in, some of the epilogues are short.

My father was not a brave or an honorable man; but he had once tried to be brave and honorable. He had been afraid, but he had dared—in his fashion—to pray for Owen Meany; he had done that pretty well.

for had the boy seen what Lindberg meant by a personalized version of Alice's Rose of Jericho, he might have realized that there were other things that were not as they seemed.

Jack had inquired if much music had been written for organ and cello—he certainly hadn't heard any—but the woman from Sibelius Academy said that Ritva and Hannele were famous for being "improvisational.

the letter I wrote to Jimmy Carter. "Dear Mr. President," I wrote. "Who will pardon the United States?" Who can pardon the United States? How can they be pardoned for Vietnam, for their conduct in Nicaragua, for their steadfast and gross contribution to the proliferation of nuclear arms?

and summons them to your recall with a will of its own. You think you have a memory; but it has you! Later, I would remember everything.

We would note that ruins don't change a lot: what capacity for change is in a ruin has usually been exhausted in the considerable process of change undergone in order for the ruin to become a ruin. Once becoming a ruin, a ruin stays pretty much the same.

Then I flipped to the end of the diary and reread his last entry. "TODAY'S THE DAY! '… HE THAT BELIEVETH IN ME, THOUGH HE WERE DEAD, YET SHALL HE LIVE; AND WHOSOEVER LIVETH AND BELIEVETH IN ME SHALL NEVER DIE.

They're past one watering hole, Kettle of Fish, and close to the Stonewall Inn, when a bus comes to a stop near the Waverly Place Station

Watch out for people who call themselves religious; make sure you know what they mean-- make sure they know what they mean!

It was the winter of Jack's senior year

Lupe's language was incomprehensible—what came out of her mouth didn't even sound like Spanish.

I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord …'" my father began. There was something newly powerful and confident in his voice, and the mourners heard it; the congregation gave him their complete attention. Of course, I knew what it was that had changed in him; he had found his lost faith—he spoke with absolute belief in every word he uttered; therefore, he never stuttered

Non vi sono scuse per la crudeltà, ma - in un orfanotrofio - forse si è obbligati a negare amore; se non riesce a negare amore, a trattenerti dall'amare, creerai un orfanotrofio che nessun orfano lascerà volentieri. Creerai un Homer Wells: cioè un vero orfano, dato che la sua casa sarà sempre a St. Clouds.

Then the snowshoer explained how he never drove anywhere in the beetle without what he called an emergency novel. If I drive off the road and am lying upside down in a ditch, unable to move my legs or get out of the car, I want to have something good to read. ? John Irving, The Last Chairlift

To watch my mother onstage, and to watch Dan being awful to her, was such a riveting lie. It was not the play that interested us—it was what a lie it was: that Dan was awful to my mother, that he meant her harm. That was fascinating.

After twenty years in Canada, there are certain American lunatics who still fascinate me.

Her posture, which was generally excellent, crumpled; for a moment, Jack was almost as tall as she was.

When he finished reading this passage, Pastor Merrill lifted his face to us and cried out, "'I believe; help my unbelief!' Owen Meany helped my 'unbelief,'" my father said. "Compared to Owen Meany, I am an amateur—in my faith," Mr. Merrill said. "Owen was not just a hero to the United States Army—he was my hero," my father said.

With our mothers, we are always alone

Then I got up and went to the bathroom door and asked her if there was anything I could get her. "Thank you," she whispered. "Just go out and get me yesterday and most of today," she said. "I want them back." "Is that all?" I said. "Just yesterday and today?" "That's all," she said. "Thank you.

I thought that fanatics would always have an audience; all one might hope to influence was the size of the audience.