Top Dawn Powell Quotes - Quotesmemo.com

Dawn Powell Biography

Dawn Powell (November 28, 1896 – November 14, 1965) was an American writer of novels and stories.

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Dawn Powell Quotes

I think we will have a boy baby and he will be born on the 20th of August. Everyone else has a girl baby and at times I don't believe I should mind having a little Phyllis Dawn but Dearest wants a boy and I do.

August, Baby, Believe, Girl, Think

There is really one city for everyone just as there is one major love.

Cities, City, Everyone, Love, Majors

A writer's business is minding other people's business. . . all the vices of the village gossip are the virtues of the writer.

Gossip, Minding, People, Vices, Writer

All Americans come from Ohio originally, if only briefly.

Americans, Briefly, Come, Ifs, Ohio

Yet better for one of my nature to have it that way than to have life a peaceful, placid flow of quiet contentment. I must have days of rushing excitement.

Contentment, Love, Nature, Peace, Rushing, Way

I realize more and more how instinctively pessimistic I am of all human kindness -- since I am always so bowled over by it -- and am never surprised by injustice, malice or personal attack.

Injustice, Kindness, Personal, Pessimistic, Realize

A novel must be a rich forest known at the start only by instinct.

Forests, Instinct, Known, Rich, Start

I want so much for my lover. At night when our beds are drawn close together I waken and see his dear yellow head on the pillow - sometimes his arm thrown over on my bed - and I kiss his hand, very softly so that it will not waken him.

Hands, Kissing, Night, See, Thrown, Yellow

Joe and Jojo and I had lovely day together. I love Joe so much - more and more.

Jojo, Lovely, Lovely Day, Together

An evening up on the Empire State roof-the strangest experience. The huge tomb in steel and glass, the ride to the 84th floor and there, under the clouds, a Hawaiian string quartet, lounge, concessions and, a thousand feet below, New York-a garden of golden lights winking on and off, automobiles, trucks winding in and out, and not a sound. All as silent as a dead city-and it looks adagio down there.

Automobiles, Cities, Garden, New York, Quartet, State

The artist who really loves people loves them so well the way they are he sees no need to disguise their characteristics-he loves them whole, without retouching. Yet the word used for this unqualifying affection is 'cynicism'.

Artist, Loves, Needs, People, Whole, Word

Hold fast to whatever fragments of love that exist, for sometimes a mosaic is more beautiful than an unbroken pattern.

Beautiful, Fast, Hold, Love, Mosaic, Mosaics

You woke in the morning with the weight of doom on your head. You lay with eyes shut wondering why you dreaded the day; was it a debt, was it a lost love? -and then you remembered the nightmare. . . . This was no time for beauty, for love, or private future. . . . There was no future; everyone waited, marked time, waited. For what?

Everyone, Eye, Lost Love, Marked, Morning, Shut

A novel is like a gland pill - it nips off the cream of my hysterics and gets them running on track in a book where they belong instead of rioting all over my person.

Book, Gets, Novel, Running, Writing