James Salter - Works

Works

  • The Hunters (novel, 1957; revised and reissued, 1997)
  • The Arm of Flesh (novel, 1961; republished as Cassada, 2000)
  • A Sport And A Pastime (novel, 1967)
  • Downhill Racer (screenplay, 1969)
  • The Appointment (screenplay, 1969)
  • Three (screenplay, 1969; also directed)
  • Light Years (novel, 1975)
  • Solo Faces (novel, 1979)
  • Threshold (screenplay, 1981)
  • Dusk and Other Stories (short stories, 1988; PEN/Faulkner Award 1989)
  • Still Such (poetry, 1988)
  • Burning the Days (memoir, 1997)
  • Gods of Tin (compilation memoir, 2004; selections from The Hunters, Cassada, and Burning the Days)
  • Last Night (short stories, 2005)
  • There and Then: The Travel Writing of James Salter (essays, 2005)
  • Life Is Meals: A Food Lover's Book of Days (with wife Kay Eldredge, 2006)
  • "My Lord You" and "Palm Court" (2006)
  • All That Is (2013)

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Famous quotes containing the word works:

    “The works of women are symbolical.
    We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull our sight,
    Producing what? A pair of slippers, sir,
    To put on when you’re weary or a stool
    To stumble over and vex you ... “curse that stool!”
    Or else at best, a cushion, where you lean
    And sleep, and dream of something we are not,
    But would be for your sake. Alas, alas!
    This hurts most, this ... that, after all, we are paid
    The worth of our work, perhaps.”
    —Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806–1861)

    “The discovery of Pennsylvania’s coal and iron was the deathblow to Allaire. The works were moved to Pennsylvania so hurriedly that for years pianos and the larger pieces of furniture stood in the deserted houses.”
    —For the State of New Jersey, U.S. public relief program (1935-1943)

    “The slightest living thing answers a deeper need than all the works of man because it is transitory. It has an evanescence of life, or growth, or change: it passes, as we do, from one stage to the another, from darkness to darkness, into a distance where we, too, vanish out of sight. A work of art is static; and its value and its weakness lie in being so: but the tuft of grass and the clouds above it belong to our own travelling brotherhood.”
    —Freya Stark (b. 1893–1993)