Quote
"“Why didn’t you tell Doug about it, Mr. Nordstrum?” “Because he’s a fool. Has it all figured out what he’s going to believe for the rest of his life; it takes a fool to do that."
J
Jack Finney"“How is it possible for me to thank God in my heart for the food he gives me and for life, while every morsel I eat I earn with my toil and even suffering? There may be a Providence for the rich man, but every poor man must be his own Providence. As for the value of life, we poor folks don’t live for ourselves at all; we live for other people. I often wonder if the rich man who owns great blocks of stock in the road and reckons his wealth in the millions does not sometimes think, as he sits at his well-filled table and looks at the happy faces of his children, of the poor car driver who toils for his benefit for a dollar and ninety cents a day, and is lucky if he tastes meat twice a week and can give the little ones at home warm clothes and blankets for the winter.”"
Walter Braden "Jack" Finney was an American writer. His best-known works are science fiction and thrillers, including The Body Snatchers and Time and Again. Themes that persisted throughout his career were a fascination with previous time periods and time travel, and ordinary people encountering extraordinary circumstances. Many of his works were adapted into films or television productions.
"“Why didn’t you tell Doug about it, Mr. Nordstrum?” “Because he’s a fool. Has it all figured out what he’s going to believe for the rest of his life; it takes a fool to do that."
"You had no criminal record, not with us, anyway, but that didn’t tell me anything either; most people have no criminal record, and at least half of them ought to."
"I was pleased at the thought of a girl with a hope chest full of power tools."
"Haven’t you ever wished it were somehow possible to cross-examine an absolute stranger about something none of your business but damned interesting all the same? Well, think it over—if you’re a reporter, you can. There’s no law says it has to be printed."
"Some writers are belligerent about critics, some are sullen and hostile, but Max was just contemptuous. I’m sure he believed that all writers outranked all critics—well or badly, they actually do the deed which we only sit and carp about."
"He’s about seventy-one, a retired lawyer with a reputation for grouchiness. But it’s less grouchiness, I think, than a simple unwillingness to put up with anyone who doesn’t interest him."