John Dos Passos
John Roderigo Dos Passos (/dɵsˈpæsɵs/; January 14, 1896 – September 28, 1970) was an American novelist and artist.
Read more about John Dos Passos: Early Life, Literary Career, U.S.A. Trilogy, Artistic Career, Influence, Dos Passos Prize, Literary Works, Published As
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“It’s rather grisly, isnt it, how soon a living man becomes nothing more than a collection of stocks and bonds and debts and real estate?”
—John Dos Passos (1896–1970)
“There’s something wonderfully exciting about the quiet sing song of an aeroplane overhead with all the guns in creation lighting out at it, and searchlights feeling their way across the sky like antennae, and the earth shaking snort of the bombs and the whimper of shrapnel pieces when they come down to patter on the roof.”
—John Dos Passos (1896–1970)
“There St. John mingles with my friendly bowl
The feast of reason and the flow of soul;”
—Alexander Pope (1688–1744)
“Mealtime’s the only time I get to devote to the things of the spirit.”
—John Dos Passos (1896–1970)
“Through dinner she felt a gradual icy coldness stealing through her like novocaine. She had made up her mind. It seemed as if she had set the photograph of herself in her own place, forever frozen into a single gesture.”
—John Dos Passos (1896–1970)