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Rape is a crime against sleep and memory it's afterimage imprints itself like an irreversible negative from the camera obscura of dreams.

Pat Conroy

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Pat Conroy
Age: 70 †
Born: 1945
Born: October 26
Died: 2016
Died: March 4
Author
Basketball Player
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Atlanta
Georgia
Patrick Conroy
Donald Patrick Conroy
Like
Cameras
Memory
Negative
Crime
Dreams
Imprints
Memories
Rape
Sleep
Irreversible
Dream
Camera

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American men are allotted just as many tears as American women. But because we are forbidden to shed them, we die long before women do, with our hearts exploding or our blood pressure rising or our livers eaten away by alcohol because that lake of grief inside us has no outlet. We, men, die because our faces were not watered enough.
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Families without songs are unhappy families.
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I do not have any other way of saying it. I think it happens but once and only to the very young when it feels like your skin could ignite at the mere touch of another person. You get to love like that but once.
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Her laughter was a shiny thing, like pewter flung high in the air.
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Through sports a coach can offer a boy a secret way to sneak up on the mystery that is manhood.
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I realized early that unless you're willing to kill the innocent, you can't win.
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Reading is the most rewarding form of exile and the most necessary discipline for novelists who burn with the ambition to get better.
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I've never cackled with laughter at a single line I've ever written. None of it has given me pleasure.
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If not for sports, I do not think my father would have ever talked to me.
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My mother thought of my father as half barbarian and half blunt instrument, and she isolated him from his children.
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I meet kids now who become novelists, poets, write for the theater and movies, who were simply inspired by what they saw during the Spoleto Festival.
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Fantasy is one of the soul's brighter porcelains.
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Craziness attacks the softest eyes and hamstrings the gentlest flanks.
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Carolina beach music, Dupree said, coming up on the porch. The holiest sound on earth.
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Even today, I hunt for the fabulous books that will change me utterly. I find myself happiest in the middle of a book which I forget that I am reading, but am instead immersed in a made-up life lived at the highest pitch.
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I still write in long hand. I type like a chimpanzee.
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Red Hook Road made me happy, and happy to be alive. It took me out of my home on the coast of South Carolina, placed me in the town along Red hook Road, and changed me the way good books always do.
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Happiness is an accident of nature, a beautiful and flawless aberration.
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I lived with the terrible knowledge that one day I would be an old man still waiting for my real life to start. Already, I pitied that old man.
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Cameras are a lifesaver for very shy people who have nowhere else to hide. Behind a lens they can disguise the fact that they have nothing to say to strangers.
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