The measure of artistic merit is the length to which a writer is willing to go in following his own compulsions. — John Updike Copy Share Image
And there was, in those Ipswich years, for me at least, a raw educational component; though I used to score well in… — John Updike Copy Share Image
I'm willing to show good taste, if I can, in somebody else's living room, but our reading life is too short for… — John Updike Copy Share Image
A number of American colleges are willing to pay a tempting amount to pinch and poke an author for a day or… — John Updike Copy Share Image
Each morning my characters greet me with misty faces willing, though chilled, to muster for another day's progress through the dazzling quicksand… — 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
