My father provided; he gathered things to himself and let them fall upon the world; my clothes, my food, my luxurious hopes had fallen to me from him, and for the first time his death seemed, even at its immense stellar remove of impossibility, a grave and dreadful threat.
John UpdikeRussia is the only country of the world you can be homesick for while you're still in it.
John UpdikeWriters may be disreputable, incorrigible, early to decay or late to bloom but they dare to go it alone.
John UpdikeIn a country this large and a language even larger ... there ought to be a living for somebody who cares and wants to entertain and instruct a reader.
John Updike