Garth Stein
Garth Stein
Garth Stein is an American author and film producer from Seattle, Washington. Widely known as the author of the New York Times bestselling novel, The Art of Racing in the Rain, Stein is also a documentary film maker, playwright, teacher, and amateur racer...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth6 December 1964
CityLos Angeles, CA
CountryUnited States of America
zebras fear self
I suddenly realized. The zebra. It is not something outside of us. The zebra is something inside of us. Our fears. Our own self-destructive nature. The zebra is the worst part of us when we are face-to-face with our worst times. The demon is us!
soul care nervous
But that day I was anxious. I was nervous and worried, uneasy and distracted. I paced around and never felt settled. I didn't care for the sensation, yet I realized it was possibly a natural progression of my evolving soul, and therefore I tried my best to embrace it.
dog giving thumbs
Those monkey-thumbs were meant for dogs. Give me my thumbs, you fu**ing monkeys!
wall eye track
In racing, they say that your car goes where your eyes go. The driver who cannot tear his eyes away from the wall as he spins out of control will meet that wall; the driver who looks down the track as he feels his tires break free will regain control of his vehicle.
moon men thinking
The full moon rises. The fog clings to the lowest branches of the spruce trees. The man steps out of the darkest corner of the forest and finds himself transformed into... A monkey? I think not.
beautiful hands long
He is so brilliant. He shines. He's beautiful with his hands that grab things and his tongue that says things and the way he stands and chews his food for so long, mashing it into a paste before he swallows.
remember folding
[M]emory is time folding back on itself. To remember is to disengage from the present.
inspirational life eye
That which you manifest is before you. The visible becomes inevitable. Your car goes where your eyes go.
valleys
Yet for every peak there is a valley.
wells therapy ifs
If I went to someone for therapy, I wouldn't be a writer...I would just be well adjusted.
rain years wind
I hear hundreds of years of life. I hear wind and rain and fire and beetles. I hear the seasons changing and birds and squirrels. I hear the life of the trees this wood came from.
life hands order
Perhaps that is what life is all about—the search for such a connection. The search for magic. The search for the inexplicable. Not in order to explain it, or contain it. Simply in order to feel it. Because in that recognition of the sublime, we see for a moment the entire universe in the palm of our hand. And in that moment, we touch the face of God.
hate numbers honest
I gotta be honest with you...I hate numbers. I hate chapter numbers. I hate them.
book reading thinking
I know in this time of great technological advancement, the idea of reading a book seems almost anachronistic, but I think it's worth preserving.