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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.

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
Persons
Skin
Person
Skins
Feels
Touch
Way
Mere
Love
Saying
Think
Another
Thinking
Happens
Like
Young
Ignite

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The only word for goodness is goodness, and it is not enough.
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Her laughter was a shiny thing, like pewter flung high in the air.
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... the wing of a fly is proof enough of the existence of God for me.
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I wrote to explain my own life to myself, stories are the vessels I use to interpret the world to myself.
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The mind is an intricate mechanism that can be run on the fuels of both victory and defeatism.
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I’ve never had anyone’s approval, so I’ve learned to live without it.
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Few things linger longer or become more indwelling than that feeling of both completion and emptiness when a great book ends. That the book accompanies the reader forever from that day forward is part of literature's profligate generosity.
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Writing has never been that simple for me.
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I still write in long hand. I type like a chimpanzee.
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Good writing is the hardest form of thinking.
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A story untold could be the one that kills you.
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My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.
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I don't believe in happy families.
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My soul grazes like a lamb on the beauty of an indrawn tide.
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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.
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He was one of those rare men who are capable of being fully in love only once in their lives.
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We old athletes carry the disfigurements and markings of contests remembered only by us and no one else. Nothing is more lost than a forgotten game.
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She was one of those Southerners who knew from an early age that the South could never be more for them than a fragrant prison, administered by a collective of loving but treacherous relatives.
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