Sherwood Anderson
Sherwood Anderson
Sherwood Andersonwas an American novelist and short story writer, known for subjective and self-revealing works. Self-educated, he rose to become a successful copywriter and business owner in Cleveland and Elyria, Ohio. In 1912, Anderson had a nervous breakdown that led him to abandon his business and family to become a writer...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth13 September 1876
CityCamden, OH
CountryUnited States of America
All of the people of my time were bound with chains. They had forgotten the long fields and the standing corn. They had forgotten the west winds.
It might be that women who have beennurses should not marry physicians. They have too much respect for physicians, are taughtto have too much respect
Everyone in the world is Christ and they are all crucified.
I have seldom written a story, long or short, that I did not have to write and rewrite. There are single stories of mine that have taken me ten or twelve years to get written.
In youth there are always two forces fighting in people. The warm unthinking little animal struggles against the thing that reflects and remembers
He thought about himself and to the young that always brings sadness.
On the trees are only a few gnarled apples that the pickers have rejected. They look like the knuckles of Doctor Reefy's hands. One nibbles at them and they are delicious. Into a little round place at the side of the apple has been gathered all its sweetness. One runs from tree to tree over the frosted ground picking the gnarled, twisted apples and filling his pockets with them. Only the few know the sweetness of the twisted apples.
It is no use. I find it impossible to work with security staring me in the face.
Friends you have, people you love, die and are born again.
In that high place in the darkness the two oddly sensitive human atoms held each other tightly and waited. In the mind of each was the same thought. "I have come to this lonely place and here is this other," was the substance of the thing felt.
I feel that I am writing out of a full life. I am a rich man, rich in men known, in adventures had. I am rich with living.
I am constantly amazed at how little painters know about painting, writers about writing, merchants about business, manufacturers about manufacturing. Most men just drift.
The disease we all have and that we have to fight against all our lives is ... the disease of self ...
Don't be carried off your feet by anything because it is modern - the latest thing. Go to the Louvre often and spend a good deal of time before the Rembrandts, the Delacroixs.