“How many more, I must ask myself, such perfect ends of Augusts will I witness?” — John Updike Copy Share Image
What you lose as you age is witnesses, the ones that watched from early on and cared, like your own little grandstand. — John Updike Copy Share Image
Suddenly summoned to witness something great and horrendous, we keep fighting not to reduce it to our own smallness. — John Updike Copy Share Image
I don't know; I think I'd be gloomy without some faith that there is a purpose and there is a kind of… — John Updike Copy Share Image
The yearning for an afterlife is the opposite of selfish: it is love and praise for the world that we are privileged,… — John Updike Copy Share Image
In fact we do not try to picture the afterlife, nor is it our selves in our nervous tics and optical flecks… — 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
I can't bear to finish things, beyond a certain point they get heavy. There's something so dead about a finished painting. — John Updike Copy Share Image
“Some people find fall depressing, others hate spring. I've always been a spring person myself. All that growth, you can feel Nature groaning, the… — John Updike Copy Share Image
