Then he went into the dining room, consulting his watch. It was ten thirty already. More than half the morning was gone. More than half the time for sitting and trying to write the prose that would make people sit up and gasp. It happened that way more often now than he would even admit to himself. Sleeping late, making up errands, doing anything to forestall the terrible moment when he must sit down before his typewriter and try to wrench some harvest from the growing desert of his mind. (“Mad House”)
Richard MathesonMots clés writing procrastination writer-s-block
It was a fairy tale, no fooling. It was unreality becoming real. This frightened her. Because people don't care for unreality becoming real. It pricks their well-fed minds, you see, with something like a hunger pang. They prefer the logical stuffiness of expectancy. It is only at certain times that they weaken, letting imagination in. That's the time to get them. (“The Disinheritors”)
Richard MathesonMots clés fear imagination reality rationality unreality
Yet, despite all, it is a difficult thing to admit the existence of ghosts in a coldly factual world. One's very instincts rebel at the admission of such maddening possibility. For, once the initial step is made into the supernatural, there is no turning back, no knowing where the strange road leads except that it is quite unknown and quite terrible. ("Slaughter House")
Richard MathesonMots clés horror ghosts supernatural
He kept thinking about Mary. What a fool he'd been to let her go. To think, with the thoughtless assurance of youth, that the world was replete with endless possibilities. He'd thought it a mistake to choose so early in life and embrace the present good. He'd been a great one for looking for greener pastures. He'd kept looking until all his pastures were brown with time. ("Old Haunts")
Richard MathesonMots clés love freedom opportunity
She doesn't have to even give me supper. Im not hungry anyway.
Im full. (Dress of White Silk)
Mots clés dress-of-white-silk
Death is a fascinating lure to men who can stand aside and watch it operate on someone else. (from "The Conqueror")
Richard MathesonMots clés death
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Robert Neville looked out over the new people of the earth. He knew he did not belong to them; he knew that, like the vampires, he was anathema and black terror to be destroyed. And, abruptly, the concept came, amusing to him even in his pain. ... Full circle. A new terror born in death, a new superstition entering the unassailable fortress of forever. I am legend.
Richard MathesonMots clés sci-fi post-apocalyptic i-am-legend richard-matheson sf-masterworks
You bastard, he thought, almost affectionately, watching the minuscule protoplasm fluttering on the slide. You dirty little bastard.
Richard MathesonMots clés post-apocalyptic i-am-legend richard-matheson
A man could get used to anything if he had to.
Richard MathesonThe foraging for food and water, the struggle for life in a world without masters, housed in a body that man had made dependent on himself.
Richard MathesonMots clés survival independence
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