J. D. Salinger
J. D. Salinger
Jerome David Salingerwas an American writer who won acclaim early in life. He led a very private life for more than a half-century. He published his final original work in 1965 and gave his last interview in 1980...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth1 January 1919
CountryUnited States of America
apples bunch adam-and-eve
I've never seen such a bunch of apple-eaters.
girl hurt sorry
I don't know about bores. Maybe you shouldn't feel too sorry if you see some swell girl getting married to them. They don't hurt anybody most of them, and maybe they're all terrific whistlers or something. Who the hell knows? Not me.
money blue ends
Money always ends up making you blue.
truth childhood parent
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.
sex hot horsing-around
Sex is something I really don't understand too hot.
glands existence existence-of-god
The existence of God, the why of life, was all that really only a question of glands?
writing want pleasure
I love to write and I assure you I write regularly... But I write for myself, for my own pleasure. And I want to be left alone to do it.
wish wish-you could-have-been
God, I wish you could have been there.
memories lying people
If sentiment doesn't ultimately make fibbers of some people, their natural abominable memories almost certainly will.
loss care too-much
I never seem to have anything that if I lost it I'd care too much about.
love-you mean weekend
Let's just try to have a marvelous time this weekend. I mean not try to analyze everything to death for once, if possible. Especially me. I love you.
stars writing heart
Were most of your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out?
hate player dope
I'd swear to God, if I were a piano player or an actor or something and all those dopes thought I was terrific, I'd hate it. I wouldn't even want them to clap for me. People always clap for the wrong things. If I were a piano player, I'd play it in the goddam closet.
orange doors mind
After I go out this door, I may only exist in the minds of all my acquaintances…I may be an orange peel.