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Evil would always come to me disguised in systems and dignified by law.

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
Always
Would
Dignified
Disguised
Systems
Law
Evil
Come

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I loved my parents... but that can never change the fact that my father's violence ruined my childhood.
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Humanity is best described as inhumanity.
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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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Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends.
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Every woman I had ever met who walked through the world appraised and classified by an extraordinary physicality had also received the keys to an unbearable solitude. It was the coefficient of their beauty, the price they had to pay.
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I can't pass a bookstore without slipping inside, looking for the next book that will burn my hand when I touch its jacket, or hand me over a promissory note of such immense power that it contains the formula that will change everything about me.
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Like everything else, love's not worth much without some action to back it up.
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Without music, life is a journey through a desert.
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When I was 5 years old, my mother read me 'Gone With The Wind' at night, before I went to bed. I remember her reading almost all year.
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But no one walks out of his family without reprisals: a family is too disciplined an army to offer compassion to its deserters.
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My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.
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We children sat transfixed before that moon our mother had called forth from the waters. When the moon had reached its deepest silver, my sister, Savannah, though only three, cried aloud to our mother, to Luke and me, to the river and the moon, Oh, Mama, do it again! And I had my earliest memory.
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Happiness is an accident of nature, a beautiful and flawless aberration.
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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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I stood face to face with the moon and the ocean and the future that spread out with all its bewildering immensity before me.
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Carolina beach music, Dupree said, coming up on the porch. The holiest sound on earth.
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I've always found paranoia to be a perfectly defensible position.
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Good writing ... involves the agony of turning profoundly difficult thoughts into lucid form, then forcing them into the tight-fitting uniform of language, making them visible and clear.
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