I still believe in the American Dream. I see it in terms of freedom, and a government that trusts its people to… — John Updike Copy Share Image
To be a human being is to be in a state of tension between your appetites and your dreams, and the social… — John Updike Copy Share Image
Dream golf is simply golf played on another course. We chip from glass tables onto moving stairways; we swing in a straightjacket,… — John Updike Copy Share Image
Dreams come true; without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them. — John Updike Copy Share Image
“We all dream, and we all stand aghast at the mouth of the caves of our deaths; and this is our way… — John Updike Copy Share Image
America is beyond power; it acts as in a dream, as a face of God. Wherever America is, there is freedom, and… — John Updike Copy Share Image
Life is a roller coaster, you have your ups and downs unless you fall off. — John Updike Copy Share Image
Children are not a zoo of entertainingly exotic creatures, but an array of mirrors in which the human predicament leaps out at us. — John Updike Copy Share Image
I assume my stance, and take back the club, low, slowly; at the top, my eyes fog over, and my joints dip and swirl… — John Updike Copy Share Image
The New England spirit does not seek solutions in a crowd; raw light and solitariness are less dreaded than welcomed as enhancers of our… — John Updike Copy Share Image
I imagine most of that stuff on the information highway is roadkill anyway. — John Updike Copy Share Image
Families, doing everything for each other out of imagined obligation and always getting in each other's way, what a tangle. — John Updike Copy Share Image
“The mind cannot fall asleep as long as it watches itself. Only when the mind moves unwatched and becomes absorbed in images that tug… — John Updike Copy Share Image
In fiction, imaginary people become realer to us than any named celebrity glimpsed in a series of rumored events, whose causes and subtler ramifications… — John Updike Copy Share Image
“Her hair had been going gray as long as he could remember; she bundled it behind in a bun held with hairpins that he… — John Updike Copy Share Image
