Larry McMurtry
Larry McMurtry
Larry Jeff McMurtryis an American novelist, essayist, bookseller and screenwriter whose work is predominantly set in either the old West or in contemporary Texas. His novels include Horseman, Pass By, The Last Picture Showand Terms of Endearment, which were adapted into films earning 26 Academy Award nominations. His 1985 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel Lonesome Dove was adapted into a television miniseries that earned 18 Emmy Award nominations, with the other three novels in his Lonesome Dove series adapted into three more...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionScreenwriter
Date of Birth3 June 1936
CityArcher City, TX
CountryUnited States of America
People would be bored shitless if they had to love only the good in someone they care about.
Writing is a form of herding. I herd words into little paragraph-like clusters.
If you want one thing too much it’s likely to be a disappointment. The healthy way is to learn to like the everyday things, like soft beds and buttermilk—and feisty gentlemen.
Self-parody is the first portent of age.
The lives of happy people are dense with their own doings -- crowded, active, thick. But the sorrowing are nomads, on a plain with few landmarks and no boundaries; sorrow's horizons are vague and its demands are few.
A woman's love is like the morning dew. It's just as likely to settle on a horse turd as a rose.
The tradition I was born into was essentially nomadic, a herdsmen tradition, following animals across the earth. The bookshops are a form of ranching; instead of herding cattle, I herd books. Writing is a form of herding, too; I herd words into little paragraph-like clusters.
Texas is rich in unredeemed dreams
There isn't a thought in my head I care to be alone with for more than five minutes.
A bookman’s love of books is a love of books, not merely of the information in them.
If you wait, all that happens is that you get older.
It ain’t dying I’m talking about, it’s living. I doubt it matters where you die, but it matters where you live.” ~spoken by Augustus McCrae
Call saw that everyone was looking at him, the hands and cowboys and townspeople alike. The anger had drained out of him, leaving him feeling tired. He didn't remember the fight, particularly, but people were looking at him as if they were stunned. He felt he should make some explanation, though it seemed to him a simple situation. "I hate a man that talks rude," he said. "I won't tolerate it.
Americans don't want cowboys to be gay.