Quotes About Author

Yes," Marcus said. "The King is not gone, you know. He walks the planet, disguised as the needy.

When an atheist enjoys the cool breeze of a sunny autumn day as he writes his treatise saying God doesn't exist, the ultimate source of his pleasure remains God. God is the author of the universe itself—including the powers of rational thought the atheist misuses to argue against God. David

Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs" (Jonah 2:8).

If God is the author of life, there must be a script.

Truth is not only a matter of offense, in that it makes certain assertions. It is also a matter of defense in that it must be able to make a cogent and sensible response to the counterpoints that are raised.

Wonder is that possession of the mind that enchants the emotions, while never surrendering reason.

Teaching must become the center of worship again, and the ideas that shape our expressions must be biblically induced and shaped.

Even though we did not author creation, we wish to author morality and take the reins of life.

In life's most severe tests of motives, there is a politician in each and every one of us.

You're insane! I won't argue that point.

Now that I have you thoroughly confused, let me pause to hear your own dismayed cry.

Kerosene, he said, because the silence had lengthened, is nothing but perfume to me.

His flesh took paleness from his bones.

Fantasy? That's for the Fire Birds. Fantasy, even when it takes science-fictional forms, which it often does, is dangerous. It is escapist. It is daydreaming. It has nothing to do with the world and the world's problems. So said the snobs who did not know themselves as snobs.

And the odd think in Dad's voice was the sound truth makes being said.

The man was cold as an albino frog.

It is a wise writer who knows his own subconcious. And not only knows it but lets it speak of the world as it and it alone has sensed it and shaped it to its own truth.

Business or profession?' 'I guess you'd call me a writer.' No profession,' said the police car, as if talking to itself. The light held him fixed, like a museum specimen, needle thrust through chest.

She was too wonderful a character to be allowed to die and I realize now that I should have allowed her to appear at hte end of my book. [Ray writes about the character Clarisse]

toward that suddenly brilliant town called Obscurity by a dazzling seashore called The Past.

I'm a California boy. I don't tell anyone how to write and no one tells me. (Paris Review Interview)

I'm still crazy. The rain feels good. I love to walk in it.

Not words in books or words you say, but real thoughts, real actions, quick thought, quick action, win the day.

I lie here sleeping, and these people are the fragments of my bloodless dreaming.