John Cheever

Wisdom is the knowledge of good and evil, not the strength to choose between the two.

— John Cheever

Fear tastes like a rusty knife and do not let her into your house.

— John Cheever

This shit about being fearless before death ain't got no quality. How could you say you were fearless about leaving the party, even in stir—even franks and rice taste good when you're hungry, even an iron bar feels good to touch, it feels good to sleep. It's like a party even in maximum security and who wants to walk out of a party into something that nobody knows anything at all about?

— John Cheever

Wisdom is the knowledge of good and evil, not the strength to choose between the two.

— John Cheever

The novel remains for me one of the few forms where we can record man’s complexity and the strength and decency of his longings. Where we can describe, step by step, minute by minute, our not altogether unpleasant struggle to put ourselves into a viable and devout relationship to our beloved and mistaken world.

— John Cheever

He was a tall man with an astonishing and somehow elegant curvature of the spine, formed by an enlarged lower abdomen, which he carried in a stately and contented way, as if it contained money and securities.

— John Cheever

Homesickness is nothing … Fifty percent of the people in the world are homesick all the time.

— John Cheever

Art is the triumph over chaos.

— John Cheever

I can’t write without a reader. It’s precisely like a kiss—you can’t do it alone.

— John Cheever

The need to write comes from the need to make sense of one’s life and discover one’s usefulness.

— John Cheever

A collection of short stories is generally thought to be a horrendous clinker; an enforced courtesy for the elderly writer who wants to display the trophies of his youth, along with his trout flies.

— John Cheever

For me, a page of good prose is where one hears the rain [and] the noise of battle. [It] has the power to give grief or universality that lends it a youthful beauty.

— John Cheever

I sometimes go back to walk through the ghostly remains of Sutton Place where the rude, new buildings stand squarely in one another’s river views.

— John Cheever

When I remember my family, I always remember their backs. They were always indignantly leaving places. That’s the way I remember them, heading for an exit.

— John Cheever

What I am going to write is the last of what I have to say. I will say that literature is the only consciousness we possess and that its role as consciousness must inform us of our ability to comprehend the hideous danger of nuclear power.

— John Cheever

Literature has been the salvation of the damned, literature has inspired and guided lovers, routed despair and can perhaps in this case save the world.

— John Cheever

All literary men are Red Sox fans—to be a Yankee fan in a literate society is to endanger your life.

— John Cheever

My veins are filled, once a week with a Neapolitan carpet cleaner distilled from the Adriatic and I am as bald as an egg. However I still get around and am mean to cats.

— John Cheever

He had that spooky bass voice meant to announce that he had entered the kingdom of manhood, but Rosalie knew that he was still outside the gates.

— John Cheever

...your underwear is clean in case you should be hit by a taxicab and have to be undressed by strangers.

— John Cheever

..for the dead fish was striped like a cat and the sky was striped like the fish and the conch was whorled like an ear and the beach was ribbed like a dog's mouth and the movables in the surf splintered and crashed like the walls of Jericho.

— John Cheever

Admire the world. Relish the love of a gentle woman. Trust in the lord.

— John Cheever

I'm wicked, as you say, and I'm rude and I'm boorish and I discovered, after marrying Mr Scaddon, that I could be all these things and worse and that there would still be plenty of people to lick my boots.

— John Cheever

When the beginnings of self-destruction enter the heart it seems no bigger than a grain of sand.

— John Cheever

Strange and predatory and truly dangerous, car thieves and muggers—they seem to jeopardize all our cherished concepts, even our self-esteem, our property rights, our powers of love, our laws and pleasures. The only relationship we seem to have with them is scorn or bewilderment, but they belong somewhere on the dark prairies of a country that is in the throes of self-discovery.

— John Cheever

I do not understand the capricious lewdness of the sleeping mind.

— John Cheever

Wisdom we know is the knowledge of good and evil not the strength to choose between the two.

— John Cheever

We praise Him, we bless Him, we adore Him, we glorify Him, and we wonder who is that baritone across the aisle and that pretty woman on our right who smells of apple blossoms. Our bowels stir and our cod itches and we amend our prayers for the spiritual life with the hope that it will not be too spiritual.

— John Cheever

One would never have guessed that the world had such a capacity for genuine grief. The most we can do is exploit our memories of his excellence.

— John Cheever

The task of an American writer is not to describe the misgivings of a woman taken in adultery as she looks out of a window at the rain but to describe four hundred people under the lights reaching for a foul ball. This is ceremony.

— John Cheever

The organizations of men, like men themselves, seem subject to deafness, nearsightedness, lameness, and involuntary cruelty. We seem tragically unable to help one another, to understand one another.

— John Cheever

Art is the triumph over chaos.

— John Cheever

People named John and Mary never divorce. For better or for worse, in madness and in saneness, they seem bound together for eternity by their rudimentary nomenclature. They may loathe and despise one another, quarrel, weep, and commit mayhem, but they are not free to divorce. Tom, Dick, and Harry can go to Reno on a whim, but nothing short of death can separate John and Mary.

— John Cheever

At my back I hear the word—”homosexual”—and it seems to split my world in two.... It is ignorance, our ignorance of one another, that creates this terrifying erotic chaos. Information, a crumb of information, seems to light the world.

— John Cheever

A lonely man is a lonesome thing, a stone, a bone, a stick, a receptacle for Gilbey’s gin, a stooped figure sitting at the edge of a hotel bed, heaving copious sighs like the autumn wind.

— John Cheever

The need to write comes from the need to make sense of one's life and discover one's usefulness.

— John Cheever

When I remember my family, I always remember their backs. They were always indignantly leaving places.

— John Cheever

Fiction is art and art is the triumph over chaos… to celebrate a world that lies spread out around us like a bewildering and stupendous dream.

— John Cheever

It was a splendid summer morning and it seemed as if nothing could go wrong.

— John Cheever

Wisdom we know is the knowledge of good and evil, not the strength to choose between the two.

— John Cheever

I can't write without a reader. It's precisely like a kiss - you can't do it alone.

— John Cheever

Homesickness is nothing. Fifty percent of the people in the world are homesick all the time.

— John Cheever