J. B. Priestly, fully John Boynton Priestly

J. B.
Priestly, fully John Boynton Priestly
1894
1984

English Novelist, Playwright, Author, Broadcaster, Scriptwriter, Social Commentator and Man of Letters

Author Quotes

During dinner at the Dersinghams in Angel Pavement... Do you ever watch rugger, Golspie? Mr Dersingham demanded down the table. What, rugby? Haven't see a match for years, replied Mr Golspie. Prefer the other kind when I do watch one. Major Trape raised his eyebrows, What, you a soccah man? Not this professional stuff? Don't tell me you like that. What's the matter with it? Oh, come now! I mean, you can't possibly --I mean it's a dirty business, selling fellahs for money and so on, very unsporting.

Like its politicians and its wars, society has the teenagers it deserves.

Something in me resists the calendar expectation of happiness. Merry Christmas yourself! It mutters as it shapes a ghostly grin.

To different minds, the same world is a hell, and a heaven.

A good holiday is one spent among people whose notions of time are vaguer than yours.

God can stand being told by Professor Ayer and Marghanita Laski that He doesn't exist.

Many a man is praised for his reserve and so-called shyness when he is simply too proud to risk making a fool of himself.

The Canadian is often a baffled man because he feels different from his British kindred and his American neighbors, sharply refused to be lumped together with either of them, yet cannot make plain his difference.

To say that these men paid their shillings to watch twenty-two hirelings kick a ball is merely to say that a violin is wood and catgut, that Hamlet is so much paper and ink.

"Orthodoxy, my Lord," said Bishop Warburton, in a whisper, - "orthodoxy is my doxy, - heterodoxy is another man's doxy."

Have you not a moist eye, a dry hand, a yellow cheek, a white beard, a decreasing leg, an increasing belly? Is not your voice broken, your wind short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part about you blasted with antiquity?

Marriage is like paying an endless visit in your worst clothes.

The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event. You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?

To show a child what has once delighted you, to find the child's delight added to your own, so that there is now a double delight seen in the glow of trust and affection, this is happiness.

A lot of men who have accepted - or had imposed upon them in boyhood - the old English public school styles of careful modesty in speech, with much understatement, have behind their masks an appalling and impregnable conceit of themselves.

I can't help feeling wary when I hear anything said about the masses. First you take their faces from 'em by calling 'em the masses and then you accuse 'em of not having any faces.

Most writers enjoy two periods of happiness - when a glorious idea comes to mind and, secondly, when a last page has been written and you haven't had time to know how much better it ought to be.

The greater part of critics are parasites, who, if nothing had been written, would find nothing to write.

We must beware the revenge of the starved senses, the embittered animal in its prison.

A novelist who writes nothing for 10 years finds his reputation rising. Because I keep on producing books they say there must be something wrong with this fellow.

I have always been delighted at the prospect of a new day, a fresh try, one more start, with perhaps a bit of magic waiting somewhere behind the morning.

Much of writing might be described as mental pregnancy with successive difficult deliveries.

The greatest writers of this age... are aware of the mystery of our existence.

We plan, we toil, we suffer ? in the hope of what? A camel-load of idol's eyes? The title deeds of Radio City? The empire of Asia? A trip to the moon? No, no, no, no. Simply to wake up just in time to smell coffee and bacon and eggs. And, again I cry, how rarely it happens! But when it does happen ? then what a moment, what a morning, what a delight!

A synopsis is a cold thing. You do it with the front of your mind. If you're going to stay with it, you never get quite the same magic as when you're going all out.

Author Picture
First Name
J. B.
Last Name
Priestly, fully John Boynton Priestly
Birth Date
1894
Death Date
1984
Bio

English Novelist, Playwright, Author, Broadcaster, Scriptwriter, Social Commentator and Man of Letters