J. D. Salinger Quotes

Zooey was in dreamy top form. The announcer had them off on the subject of housing developments, and the little Burke girl said she hated houses that all look alike-meaning a long row of identical 'development' houses. Zooey said they were 'nice.' He said it would be very nice to come home and be in the wrong house. To eat dinner with the wrong people by mistake, sleep in the wrong bed by mistake, and kiss everybody goodbye in the morning thinking they were your own family. He said he even wished everybody in the world looked exactly alike. He said you'd keep thinking everybody you met was your wife or your mother or father, and people would always be throwing their arms around each other wherever they went, and it would look 'very nice.

یه چیزی که خیلی روم تاثیر گذاشت این خانومه بود که بغلم نشسته بود و همه ش گریه می کرد.هر چی فیلمه مزخرف تر می شد بیشتر گریه می کرد.
آدم فکر می کرد چون آدم مهربونیه داره گریه می کنه ولی از این خبرا نبود. من بغلش نشسته بودم و خوب می دونم.یه بچه همراش بود که طفلک خیلی خسته شده بود و می خواست بره دستشویی ولی خانومه هی بهش می گفت آروم بگیره و مواظب رفتارش باشه.اندازه ی یک گرگ مهربون بود.بعضی ها این طوری ان. واسه یه فیلمِ چرت و پرت اشک می ریزن ولی تو بیش ترِ موارد حرومزاده های پستی ان!

I am a kind of paranoid in reverse. I suspect people of trying to make me happy

It isn't just Wally. It could be a girl, for goodness' sake. I mean if he were a girl - somebody in my dorm, for example, - he'd have been painting scenery in some stock company all summer. Or bicycled through wales. Or taken an apartment in New York and worked for a magazine or an advertising company. It's everybody, I mean. Everything everybody does is so - I don't know, not wrong, or even mean, or even stupid, necessarily. But just so tiny and meaningless and - sad-making.

And the worst part is, if you go bohemian or something crazy like that, you're conforming just as much as everybody else, only in a different way.

I thought the two ugly ones were sisters, but they got very insulted when I asked them. You could tell neither one of them wanted to look like the other one, and you couldn't blame them, but it was very amusing anyway.

Lane himself lit a cigarette as the train pulled in. Then, like so many people, who, perhaps, ought to be issued only a very probational pass to meet trains, he tried to empty his face of all expression that might quite simply, perhaps even beautifully, reveal how he felt about the arriving person.
Franny was among the first of the girls to get off the train, from a car at the far, northern end of the platform. Lane spotted her immediately, and despite whatever it was he was trying to do with his face, his arm that shot up into the air was the whole truth.

I mean not try to analyze everything to death for once, if possible, especially me.

"I thought it was, "If a body catch a body," Anyway, i keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and no ones around - nobody big I mean - except me. And I'm standing on the edge of this crazy cliff. What i have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they are going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know its crazy, but that the only thing I's really like to be. I know its crazy."

"I see you are looking at my feet," he said to her when car was in motion.
"I beg your pardon?" said the woman.
"I said I see you're looking at my feet".
"I beg your pardon. I happened to be looking at the floor," said the woman, and faced the doors of the car.
"If you want to look at my feet, say so," said the young man. "But don't be a God-damned sneak about it."
"Let me out here, please," the woman said quickly to the girl operating the car.
The car doors opened and the woman got out without looking back.
"I have two normal feet and I can't see the slightest God-damned reason why anybody should stare at them," said the young man.

After I go out this door, I may only exist in the minds of all my acquaintances. I may be an orange peel.

I feel overwhelmingly grateful to them, but I don't know what to do with their invisible gifts.

Sometimes you get tired of riding in taxicabs the same way you get tired riding in elevators. All of a sudden, you have to walk, no matter how far or how high up.

What really knocks me out is a book that, when you're all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it

«مَتی، تو الآن دخترِ کوچیکی هستی. اما هیچ‌کی دختربچه و پسربچه نمی‌مونه - مثلِ خودِ من. یه‌هو دختربچه‌ها ماتیک می‌زنن و پسربچه‌ها ریش می‌تراشن و سیگار می‌کشن. پس خیلی گذراست؛ روزگارِ بچگی رو می‌گم. امروز ده سالته، تو برف می‌دویی می‌آی منو ببینی، و حاضری با من تو خیابون اسپرینگ سُر بخوری؛ فردا بیست‌ساله می‌شی و پسرا می‌آن تو اتاق نشیمن منتظر می‌شن تا حاضر شی و با هم برین بیرون. یه‌هو می‌بینی باید به دربونا انعام بدی، فکرِ گرونی و ارزونیِ لباسات باشی و با دوستات واسه ناهار قرار بذاری و همه‌ش فکر کنی چرا یه مردِ درست و حسابی واسه‌ت پیدا نمی‌شه. همیشه همین‌جور بوده. ولی مَتی حرفِ من -اگه حرفی داشته باشم- اینه که سعی کن مطابقِ تواناییا و آرزوهات زندگی کنی. اگه به مردم قولی می‌دی کاری کن بفهمن از تهِ دل داری قول می‌دی. اگه تو کالج با یه دخترِ خنگ هم‌اتاق شدی، سعی کن کاری کنی بیشتر بفهمه. اگه بیرونِ سینما واسّادی و یه پیرزن میاد بهت آدامس بفروشه، اگه یه دلاری داری همه‌شو بهش بده -ولی فقط یه طوری این‌کارو بکن که بهش برنخوره. درستش اینه، بچه‌جون. خیلی چیزا می‌تونم بهت بگم بگم مَت، ولی نمی‌دونم حرفام درسته یا نه. تو خیلی کوچولویی، ولی حرفمو می‌فهمی. بزرگ که بشی دخترِ باهوشی می‌شی. اگه دختر باهوش و باحالی نشی می‌خوام اصلا بزرگ نشی. تو باید عالی باشی، مَت.

God, I wish you could have been there.