Sinclair Lewis
Sinclair Lewis
Harry Sinclair Lewiswas an American novelist, short-story writer, and playwright. In 1930, he became the first writer from the United States to receive the Nobel Prize in Literature, which was awarded "for his vigorous and graphic art of description and his ability to create, with wit and humor, new types of characters." His works are known for their insightful and critical views of American capitalism and materialism between the wars. He is also respected for his strong characterizations of modern...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth7 February 1885
CitySauk Centre, MN
CountryUnited States of America
When facism comes to America it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross.
Paris is one of the largest, and certainly it is the pleasantest, of modern American cities.
a dictator with something of the earthy American sense of humor of a Mark Twain, a George Ade, a Will Rogers, an Artemus Ward.
I think perhaps we want a more conscious life. We're tired of drudging and sleeping and dying. We're tired of seeing just a few people able to be individualists. We're tired of always deferring hope till the next generation. We're tired of hearing politicians and priests and cautious reformers... coax us, 'Be calm! Be patient! Wait! We have the plans for a Utopia already made; just wiser than you.' For ten thousand years they've said that. We want our Utopia now — and we're going to try our hands at it.
We'd get sick on too many cookies, but ever so much sicker on no cookies at all.
Every man is a king so long as he has someone to look down on.
When audiences come to see us authors lecture, it is largely in the hope that we'll be funnier to look at than to read.
NOW is a fact that cannot be dodged.
Unhappy women are given to protecting their sensitiveness by cynical gossip, by whining, by high-church and new-thought religions, or by a fog of vagueness.
There is no greater compliment to the Jews than the fact that the degree of their unpopularity is always the scientific measure of the cruelty and silliness of the regime under which they live.
There was much conversation, most of which sounded like the rest of it.
It is, I think, an error to believe that there is any need of religion to make life seem worth living.
So much in a revolution is nothing but waiting.
It is one of the major tragedies that nothing is more discomforting than the hearty affection of the Old Friends who never were friends.