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Richard Matheson Biography

Richard Matheson

Richard Burton Matheson (February 20, 1926 – June 23, 2013) was an American author and screenwriter, primarily in the fantasy, horror, and science fiction genres. He is best known as the author of I Am Legend, a 1954 science fiction horror vampire novel that has been adapted for the screen four times, as well as the movie Somewhere In Time for which Matheson wrote the screenplay, based on his novel Bid Time Return. Matheson also wrote 16 television episodes of The Twilight Zone, including "Nightmare at 20,000 Feet" and "Steel".

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Richard Matheson Quotes

Normalcy was a majority concept, the standard of many and not the standard of just one man.

Majority, Men, Normalcy, Standard

Let the jagged edge of sobriety be now dulled.

Dulled, Edges, Jagged, Jagged Edge, Let, Sobriety

We've forgotten much. How to struggle, how to rise to dizzy heights and sink to unparalleled depths. We no longer aspire to anything. Even the finer shades of despair are lost to us. We've ceased to be runners. We plod from structure to conveyance to employment and back again. We live within the boundaries that science has determined for us. The measuring stick is short and sweet. The full gamut of life is a brief, shadowy continuum that runs from gray to more gray. The rainbow is bleached. We hardly know how to doubt anymore. (“The Thing”)

Dizzy, Life, Live, Running, Struggle, Sweet

Chris Nielsen: Thank you for every kindness. Thank you for our children. For the first time I saw them. Thank you for being someone I was always proud to be with. For your guts, for your sweetness. For how you always looked, for how I always wanted to touch you. God, you were my life. I apologize for everytime I ever failed you. Especially this one.

Children, Chris, Kindness, Looked, Saws, Thank

I felt puny and absurd, a ludicrous midget. Easy enough to talk of soul and spirit and essential worth, but not when you're three feet tall.

Easy, Essentials, Feet, Midget, Soul, Spirit

In a world of monotonous horror there could be no salvation in wild dreaming. Horror he had adjusted to. But monotony was the greater obstacle, and he realized it now, understood it at long last. And understanding it seemed to give him a sort of quiet peace, a sense of having spread all the cards on his mental table, examined them, and settled conclusively on the desired hand.

Cards, Dream, Hands, Long, Mental, Sort

Quiet is here and all in me. ("Dress of White Silk")

Dresses, Quiet, Silk, White

When I'm writing, especially when I'm writing in first person, I don't think about the characterization, or how they are going to express themselves, I just express my own approach to these things. I think most writers can never divorce themselves from their private lives and personas; they are the ones that are writing. And the more they remove themselves from their own persona, the more, perhaps, mechanical the work becomes.

Approach, Divorce, Personas, Remove, Thinking, Writing

If men only felt about death as they do about sleep, all terrors would cease. . . Men sleep contentedly, assured that they will wake the following morning. They should feel the same about their lives.

Death, Men, Morning, Sleep, Wake

Our world is in profound danger. Mankind must establish a set of positive values with which to secure its own survival.

Establish, Our World, Positive, Profound, Survival, Values

But it was hard to keep his hands still. He could almost feel them twitching emphatically with his strong desire to reach out and stroke the dog's head. He had such a terrible yearning to love something again, and the dog was such a beautiful ugly dog.

Beautiful, Dog, Reach, Strong, Twitching

Really now, search your soul, lovie-is the vampire so bad? All he does is drink blood.

Blood, Drink, Search, Soul, Vampire

Full circle. A new terror born in death, a new superstition entering the unassailable fortress of forever. I am legend.

Circles, Death, Forever, Full, Legends

After a while, though, even the deepest sorrow faltered, even the most penetrating despair lost its scalpel edge.

Deepest, Despair, Feeling Sad, Lost, Scalpel, Sorrow

Not only did I rediscover every experience of my life, I had to live each unfulfilled desire as well—as though they’d been fulfilled. I saw that what transpires in the mind is just as real as any flesh and blood occurrence. What had only been imagination in life, now became tangible, each fantasy a full reality. I lived them all—while, at the same time, standing to the side, a witness to their, often, intimate squalor. A witness cursed with total objectivity.

Became, Blood, Flesh, Objectivity, Real, Witness

Failures plagued me. Things I had omitted or ignored, neglected. What I should have given and hadn’t. I felt the biting pang of every unfulfillment.

Biting, Felt, Ignored, Should Have

He stood there for a moment looking around the silent room, shaking his head slowly. All these books, he thought, the residue of a planet’s intellect, the scrapings of futile minds, the leftovers, the potpourri of artifacts that had no power to save men from perishing.

Book, Looking, Men, Mind, Residue, Slowly

To get married and have a family, is to grow up and mature. It's the only way. You can read philosophy books for a hundred years, but if you don't get married and have a family you will never get it. They soften you and shape you, mature you. Absolutely.

Book, Family, Grow, Growing Up, Mature, Philosophy

A surfeiting of terror soon made terror a cliché.

Cliche, Made, Surfeiting, Terror

(After death. ) So few people who come across, possess awareness of any kind. All they bring along with them are worthless values. All they desire is continuation of what they had in life no matter how misguided or degraded. . . Will those people ever progress, even with our help?

Bring, Desire, Life, People, Possess, Progress

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