It's funny. All you have to do is say something nobody understands and they'll do practically anything you want them to.
J.D. SalingerStichwörter: bluffing confusion
I drew laughing, high-breasted girls aquaplaning without a care in the world, as a result of being amply protected against such national evils as bleeding gums, facial blemishes, unsightly hairs, and faulty or inadequate life insurance. I drew housewives who, until they reached for the right soap flakes, laid themselves wide open to straggly hair, poor posture, unruly children, disaffected husbands, rough (but slender) hands, untidy (but enormous) kitchens.
J.D. SalingerStichwörter: de-daumier-smith-s-blue-period
In every school I've gone to, all the athletic bastards stick together.
J.D. SalingerYour heart, Bessie, is an autumn garage.
J.D. SalingerStichwörter: catchy-title
Listen," he said. "If you was a fish, Mother Nature'd take care of you, wouldn't she? Right? You don't think them fish just die when it gets to be winter, do ya?"
No, but--"
You're goddam right they don't
Every time you mention some guy that's strictly a bastard— very mean, or very conceited and all— and when you mention it to the girl, she'll tell you he has an inferiority complex. Maybe he has, but that still doesn't keep him from being a bastard, in my opinion.
J.D. SalingerStichwörter: holden
He was one of those guys that think they're being a pansy if they don't break around forty of your fingers when they shake hands with you. God I hate that stuff.
J.D. SalingerThis is God's universe, buddy, not yours, and he has the final say about what's ego and what isn't.
J.D. Salingerwhen you're not looking, somebody'll sneak up and write "Fuck you" right under your nose.
J.D. SalingerStichwörter: humor
As nearly as possible in the spirit of Matthew Salinger, age one, urging a luncheon companion to accept a cool lima bean, I urge my editor, mentor and (heaven help him) closest friend, William Shawn, genius domus of The New Yorker, lover of the long shot, protector of the unprolific, defender of the hopelessly flamboyant, most
unreasonably modest of born great artist-editors to accept this pretty skimpy-looking book.
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