Joseph Heller Quotes
Quotes to Explore
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My dad was a serious alcoholic, and ultimately, that's why he died. When you're a child of someone who struggled with things like that, you look for the common thread. Is there a pattern? Is there an inheritance of pathology in some way? That haunts me.
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I am studying ancient civilizations, trying to find what happened to them, finding out why they went into a decline, why they died.
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Im attracted to things that are challenging and fun and interesting, and it certainly seems that audiences enjoy them as well.
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I was two when we left Indiana, and I don't really remember it that well.
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You see, my mother was a district nurse until she died when I was 14, and we used to move from time to time because of her work.
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Just try to keep the heart turned outward, as well as having moments inward.
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Once you start messing with psychological well-being, we get more and more messed up.
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Anyone I know who's almost died has come out of it, at least for a while, looking at things differently.
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I had known a couple of people who had died, but the loss of my mother contained something of the profoundly unknowable.
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As Shakespeare says, if you're going to do a thing you might as well pop right at it and get it over.
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The future belongs to the competent. It belongs to those who are very, very good at what they do. It does not belong to the well meaning.
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Well, subconsciously I suppose some things must stick but I'm not influenced consciously by them.
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I can't really characterize any country, except to say that we work well with a number of our foreign counterparts.
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Do you recall what was revealed the day the music died?
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Well, you're expelling us aren't you?" said Ron. "Not today, Mr. Weasley." Snape looked as though Christmas had been canceled.
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Her capacity for family affection is extraordinary. When her third husband died, her hair turned quite gold from grief.
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I'm a hustler, baby; I sell water to a well!
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As a rule, one must write a great many words before one learns to write well.
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I'm not a snob. Ask anybody-well, anybody who matters.
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. . . the state of things and the dispositions of men were then such, that a man could not well tell whom he might trust or whom he might fear.
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Love is like a reservoir of kindness and pleasure, like silos and pools during a siege.
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Dreams, books, are each a world; and books, we know, Are a substantial world, both pure and good: Round these, with tendrils strong as flesh and blood, Our pastime and our happiness will grow.
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Well, he died. You don't get any older than that.
