Ah, Evelyn and Vivian, I love you both, I love you for your sad lives, the empty misery of your coming home at dawn. You too are alone, but you are not like Arturo Bandini, who is neither fish, fowl… — John Fante Copy Share Image
“ Breakfast was ready. He could hear his father asking for coffee. Why did his father have to yell all the time? Couldn't he talk… — John Fante Copy Share Image
“Jesus, these Protestants! In my church we didn't sing cheap hymns. With us it was Handel and Palestrina.” — John Fante Copy Share Image
If there is work there is warmth, that when a man has freedom of movement it is enough, for then his blood is hot… — John Fante Copy Share Image
“I have seen them stagger out of their movie palaces and blink their empty eyes in the face of reality once more, and stagger… — John Fante Copy Share Image
“My advice to all young writers is quite simple. I would caution them never to evade a new experience. I would urge them to… — John Fante Copy Share Image
“Then it happened. One night as the rain beat on the slanted kitchen roof a great spirit slipped forever into my life. I held… — John Fante Copy Share Image
Well, this is good for me, this is experience, I am here for a reason, these moments run into pages, the seamy side of… — John Fante Copy Share Image
“She was a hunchback with a sweet smile. She smiled sweetly at anything; she couldn't help it; the trees, me, the grass, anything. The… — John Fante Copy Share Image
I tossed my shoulders and swaggered away, whistling with pleasure. In the gutter I saw a long cigaret butt. I picked it up without… — John Fante Copy Share Image
“Careful, Arturo Bandini: don't strain your eyesight, remember what happened to Tarkington, remember what happened to James Joyce.” — John Fante Copy Share Image
“Nor did he give a damn for the world either, or the universe, or heaven or hell. But he liked women.” — John Fante Copy Share Image
The bible is a source of great inspiration to me. It is a textbook of metaphysics. Within the bible are keys to personal growth,… — John Fante Copy Share Image
One night I was sitting on the bed in my hotel room on Buker Hill, down in the middle of Los Angeles. It was… — John Fante Copy Share Image
“All that was good in me thrilled in my heart at that moment, all that I hoped for in the profound, obscure meaning of… — John Fante Copy Share Image
(...) I let go, crying and unable to stop because God was such a dirty crook, contemptible skunk, that's what he was for doing… — John Fante Copy Share Image
