John Updike
John Updike
John Hoyer Updikewas an American novelist, poet, short story writer, art critic, and literary critic...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth18 March 1932
CountryUnited States of America
ambiguity clash extremes
It is in middles that extremes clash, where ambiguity restlessly rules.
blessing
All blessings are mixed blessings.
god lambs wells
God is in the tiger as well as in the lamb.
glimpse photograph abyss
A photograph offers us a glimpse into the abyss of time.
feelings facts ease
The fact that we still live well cannot ease the feeling that we no longer live nobly.
writing thinking waiting
I have never believed that one should wait until one is inspired because I think the pleasures of not writing are so great that if you ever start indulging them you will never write again.
photography art substance
Unlike the older, more humanly shaped arts, which begin with a seed and accumulate their form organically, photography clips its substance out of an actual continuum.
party men two
I would rather be seated between any two women than any two men at a dinner party.
blue voice air
The scrape and snap of Keds on loose alley pebbles seems to catapult their voices high into the moist March air blue above the wires.
encouragement government doe
Why does one never hear of government funding for the preservation and encouragement of comic strips, girlie magazines and TV soap operas? Because these genres still hold the audience they were created to amuse and instruct.
erotic needs world
The throat: how strange, that there is not more erotic emphasis upon it. For here, through this compound pulsing pillar, our life makes its leap into spirit, and in the other direction gulps down what it needs of the material world.
ocean fields sun
Don't you see, if when we die there's nothing, all your sun and fields and what not are all, ah, horror? It's just an ocean of horror.
doe moscow fats
One does not go to Moscow to get fat.
self consciousness turns
A writer's self-consciousness, for which he is much scorned, is really a mode of interestedness, that inevitably turns outward.