Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Raymond Chandler

Quote by Raymond Chandler

Work

Selected Letters of Raymond Chandler

The letters span various periods of Chandler's career, revealing his thoughts on writing, his relationships with other authors, and his experiences in the literary world. more

Author

Raymond Chandler
Raymond Chandler

Raymond Chandler was an American novelist renowned for his hard-boiled detective novels. His works are celebrated for their unique narrative style and profound insights into the criminal world. Chandler's most famous works include 'The Big Sleep' and 'Farewell, My Lovely'. more

You May Also Like

“Not fair? Oh, I'm sorry I get this lovely laptop computing device when all you get is the ability to walk, control your hands, and know you'll survive until your eighteenth birthday." Then the kid was going, "Uh, I didn't mean..." But Tad wasn't done yet. While the whole class watched in horror, he put his hands through the metal support braces on the arms of his wheelchair and forced himself to stand up. Then he took a shaky little step to the side, gestured toward the chair, and said, "Why don't you take a turn with the laptop? You can even have my seat.”

KnowsMeanLittlesSaidDoneWholeHandsKidsTurnsSidesAbilityWalksStepsClassSupportArmsHorrorFairsSorryLovelySeatsChairsDevicesMetalsI'm SorryLaptopsNot FairComputingWheelchairsBraces
Author:Jordan Sonnenblick
Create image

“Branches grew from his hands, his hair. His thoughts tangled like roots in the ground. He strained upward. Pitch ran like tears down his back. His name formed his core; ring upon ring of silence built around it. His face rose high above the forests. Gripped to earth, bending to the wind's fury, he disappeared within himself, behind the hard, wind-scrolled shield of his experiences.”

HardHandsEarthFacesNamesBehindsSilenceTearsWindHairGrewBuiltRootsRoseCoreRingsForestsRanBranchesFuryShieldsTangledBending
Book:Riddle-Master
Create image

“My dear fellow,' Burlingame said, 'we sit here on a blind rock careening through space; we are all of us rushing headlong to the grave. Think you the worms will care, when anon they make a meal of you, whether you spent your moment sighing wigless in your chamber, or sacked the golden towns of Montezuma? Lookee, the day's nigh spent; 'tis gone careening into time forever. Not a tale's length past we lined our bowels with dinner, and already they growl for more. We are dying men, Ebenezer: i'faith, there's time for naught but bold resolves!”

ThinkingMenSaidMomentsCarePastSpaceGoneForeverRocksDyingTownsFellowsBlindDearDinnerGravesTalesGoldenMealsLengthResolveWormsChamberRushingBowelsAnon
Author:John Barth
Create image