Harry Crews
Harry Crews
Harry Eugene Crewswas an American novelist, playwright, short story writer and essayist...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth7 June 1935
CountryUnited States of America
american-novelist carried good knew love spot
He did not know what love was. And he did not know what good it was. But he knew he carried it around with him, a scabrous spot of rot, of contagion, for which there was no cure.
baby book writing
Writing a book is like torture that you don't know, but after it's done and there it is. It's a joy like unlike anything else, I think it's the closest that a man can come to knowing what is feels like to have a baby.
people enjoy enjoyed
I've never enjoyed myself. I'm incapable of enjoying myself. There's just some people who don't enjoy themselves very much.
weed suicide running
I am not perfect." It came out in a rush of breath. "See I thought I was. Thank God I ain't. See a perfect thing ain't got a chance. The world kills it, everything perfect. (Listen to him!) Now see a thing that ain't perfect, it grows like a weed. Yeah, like a weed! A thing that ain't perfect gets hand clapping, smiles, takes the wire an easy winner. But the world ain't set up right if you perfect. You lible to run right into a brick wall. Looks like suicide. All the weeds say, looka there, it suicide!
heart men car
God love the car. It has shown the naked heart that lives in all of us. Man invented the car but the car -- out of pure malevolence no doubt -- changed the history of the world by reinventing man.
real teaching messy
Teaching, real teaching, is - or ought to be - a messy business.
survival triumph enough
Survival is triumph enough.
beautiful hurt eye
I first became fascinated with the Sears catalogue because all the people in its pages were perfect. Nearly everybody I knew had something missing, a finger cut off, a toe split, an ear half-chewed away, an eye clouded with blindness from a glancing fence staple. And if they didn't have something missing, they were carrying scars from barbed wire, or knives, or fishhooks. But the people in the catalogue had no such hurts. They were not only whole, had all their arms and legs and eyes on their unscarred bodies, but they were also beautiful.
air hands fire
Hell came right along with God, hand in hand. The stink of sulfur swirled in the air of the church, fire burned in the aisles, and brimstone rained out of the rafters. From the evangelist's oven mouth spewed images of a place with pitchforks, and devils, and lakes of fire that burned forever. God had fixed a place like that because he loved us so much.
night decision once-upon-a-time
That was the only decision there was once upon a time: what to do with the night.
law rising sun
There ought to be a law against the sun rising and setting for you in somebody else.
inspirational creativity artist
The artist lives in an atmosphere of perpetual failure.
men worship god-is-dead
Men to whom God is dead worship one another.
sports thinking bullshit
I think all of us are looking for that which does not admit of bullshit . . . If you tell me you can bench press 450, hell, we'll load up the bar and put you under it. Either you can do it or you can't do it-you can't bullshit. Ultimately, sports are just about as close to what one would call the truth as it is possible to get in this world.