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Raymond Carver Biography

Raymond Clevie Carver Jr. (May 25, 1938 – August 2, 1988) was an American short-story writer and poet. Carver contributed to the revitalization of the American short story during the 1980s.

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Raymond Carver Quotes

The fiction Im most interested in has lines of reference to the real world.

Fiction, Real, Reference, World

I’d like to go out in the front yard and shout something. “None of this is worth it!” That’s what I’d like people to hear.

Fronts, Like, People, Shout, Yards

Write about what you know, and what do you know better than your own secrets?

Know, Knows, Secret, Secrets, Write, Writing

I've crossed some kind of invisible line. I feel as if I've come to a place I never thought I'd have to come to. And I don't know how I got here. It's a strange place. It's a place where a little harmless dreaming and then some sleepy, early-morning talk has led me into considerations of death and annihilation.

Considerations, Dream, Insomnia, Line, Morning, Strange

Get in, get out. Don't linger. Go on.

Goes On, Linger

My circumstances of unrelieved responsibility and permanent distraction necessitated the short story form.

Distraction, Necessitated, Responsibility, Short, Stories, Writing

I'm always learning something. Learning never ends.

Ends, Always Learning, Learning

I'm moving to Nevada. Either there or kill myself.

Kill, Moving, Nevada

There was a time when I thought I loved my first wife more than life itself. But now I hate her guts. I do. How do you explain that? What happened to that love? What happened to it, is what I'd like to know. I wish someone could tell me.

Explain, Hate, Love, Time, Wife, Wish

and did you get what you wanted from this life even so? i did.

Life, This Life, Wanted

It ought to make us feel ashamed when we talk like we know what we're talking about when we talk about love.

Ashamed, Feels, Know, Like, Make, Talking

It's akin to style, what I'm talking about, but it isn't style alone. It is the writer's particular and unmistakable signature on everything he writes. It is his world and no other. This is one of the things that distinguishes one writer from another. Not talent. There's plenty of that around. But a writer who has some special way of looking at things and who gives artistic expression to that way of looking: that writer may be around for a time.

Expression, Particular, Talking, Time, Writer, Writing

She won't give him back his look.

Back, Give, Giving, Look, Looks

Something’s died in me,” she goes. “It took a long time for it to do it, but it’s dead. You’ve killed something, just like you’d took an axe to it. Everything is dirt now.

Axe, Dirt, Killed, Like You, Long

You're a beautiful drunk, daughter. But you're a drunk.

Beautiful, Daughter, Drunk

Then I said something. I said, Suppose, just suppose, nothing had ever happened. Suppose this was for the first time. Just suppose. It doesn't hurt to suppose. Say none of the other had ever happened. You know what I mean? Then what? I said.

Firsts, Hurt, Know, Mean, Nothing, Say

Don’t complain, don’t explain.

Complain, Complaining, Explain

You've got to work with your mistakes until they look intended. Understand?

Look, Looks, Mistake, Mistakes, Understand, Work

It's strange. You never start out life with the intention of becoming a bankrupt or an alcoholic or a cheat and a thief. Or a liar.

Becoming, Intention, Liar, Liars, Life, Thieves

All of us, all of us, all of us trying to save our immortal souls, some ways seemingly more round about and mysterious than others. We are having a good time here. But hope all will be revealed soon.

Having, Revealed, Soul, Trying, Way, Ways

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Raymond Carver Biography

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