5 Quotes & Sayings By Glendon Swarthout

Glendon Swarthout was born in Uniontown, Pennsylvania, in 1907. After graduating from high school, he attended the University of Pittsburgh, where he was a member of the Alpha Sigma Eta fraternity. In 1929, while attending Pitt, Swarthout published his first book of poetry. He became an advertising executive with various publishing companies and during World War II served as a captain in the U.S Read more

Army Air Corps, eventually attaining the rank of colonel. He died in 1981.

1
You shut your door to these poor women, " he said so they could hear him, "and you'll answer for it the rest of your lives. You won't sleep. You'll choke on drinks. The food you eat'll block up your bowels and you'll die of your own shit. Glendon Swarthout
2
And one by one, driven to exhaustion, trapped by fence and horses and bewilderment, under an immaculate sky the mythic creatures died. They died not in mercy, not in the majesty which was their due, but as the least of life, accursed of nature. They died in the dust of insult and the spittle of lead. There was more here than profaned the eye or ear or nose or heart. There was more here than mere destruction. The American soul itself was involved, its anthropology. We are born with buffalo blood upon our hands. In the prehistory of us all, the atavistic beasts appear. They graze the plains of our subconscious, they trample through our sleep, and in our dreams we cry out our damnation. We know what we have done, we violent people. We know that no species was created to exterminate another, and the sight of their remnant stirs in us the most profound lust, the most undying hatred, the most inexpiable guilt. A living buffalo mocks us. It has no place or purpose. It is a misbegotten child, a monster with which we cannot live and which we cannot live without. Therefore we slay, and slay again, for while a single buffalo remains, the sin of our fathers, and hence our own, is imperfect. But the slaughter of the buffalo is part of something larger. It is as though the land of Canaan into which we were led was too divine, and until we have done it every violence, until we have despoiled and murdered and dirtied every blessing, until we have erased every reminder of our original rape, until we have washed our hands of the blood of every other, we shall be unappeased. It is as though we are too proud to be beholden to Him. We cannot bear the goodness of God. . Glendon Swarthout
3
If others fell by the wayside, dear women and strong, loved by men, how had she, single and unloved, kept her sanity? Glendon Swarthout
4
The weather wouldn't settle down. It would rain cats and dogs, then stop, then drip awhile, then stop while it made up its mind what to do next. Glendon Swarthout