
As quoted in "Fined, Suspended: Clemente Hit Hard By Giles" by Bill Nunn, Jr. in The New Pittsburgh Courier (June 8, 1963), p. 23
Baseball-related, <big><big>1960s</big></big>, <big>1963</big>
Hess' Diary
As quoted in "Fined, Suspended: Clemente Hit Hard By Giles" by Bill Nunn, Jr. in The New Pittsburgh Courier (June 8, 1963), p. 23
Baseball-related, <big><big>1960s</big></big>, <big>1963</big>
"Intense Ornate" interview with Amazon.co.uk (1999)
Context: I went to college to study drama where I discovered I had no talent and after a period of dropping out majored in cultural anthropology which of course meant more masks and dancing … I studied what interested me and so I had to become a writer because my education had left me unsuited for a decent well-paying job.
“I did have an inkling that I was going to be a writer. That was my intention.”
Interview in Toronto Canada (6 September 2000), by Jim Kunstler, Metropolis Magazine (March 2001)
“She thought a writer should work harder writing a book than she did reading it.”
Source: The Marriage Plot
“I said "writer," not "poet;" I did have some common sense.”
On Writing Poetry (1995)
Context: My English teacher from 1955, run to ground by some documentary crew trying to explain my life, said that in her class I had showed no particular promise. This was true. Until the descent of the giant thumb, I showed no particular promise. I also showed no particular promise for some time afterwards, but I did not know this. A lot of being a poet consists of willed ignorance. If you woke up from your trance and realized the nature of the life-threatening and dignity-destroying precipice you were walking along, you would switch into actuarial sciences immediately. If I had not been ignorant in this particular way, I would not have announced to an assortment of my high school female friends, in the cafeteria one brown-bag lunchtime, that I was going to be a writer. I said "writer," not "poet;" I did have some common sense. But my announcement was certainly a conversation-stopper. Sticks of celery were suspended in mid-crunch, peanut-butter sandwiches paused halfway between table and mouth; nobody said a word. One of those present reminded me of this incident recently — I had repressed it — and said she had been simply astounded. "Why?," I said. "Because I wanted to be a writer?" "No," she said. "Because you had the guts to say it out loud."
From interview with Amrita Mulchandani