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It's impossible to explain to a Yankee what `tacky' is. They simply have no word for it up north, but my God, do they ever need one.

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
North
Explain
Simply
Impossible
Word
Ever
Tacky
Need
Yankee
Needs
Yankees

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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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I learned that if I could read, I could cook. I surprised myself I like it.
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I wanted to become the seeker, the aroused and passionate explorer, and it was better to go at it knowing nothing at all, always choosing the unmarked bottle, always choosing your own unproven method, armed with nothing but faith and a belief in astonishment.
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Saints make wonderful grandfathers and lousy husbands.
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I was born into the century in which novels lost their stories, poems their rhymes, paintings their form, and music its beauty, but that does not mean I have to like that trend or go along with it.
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I still write in long hand. I type like a chimpanzee.
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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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My father wouldn't let me take typing in childhood.
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We wait for the tortoises to come. We wait for that lady who walks them. That’s how art works. It’s never a jackrabbit, or a racehorse. It’s the tortoises that hold all the secrets. We’ve got to be patient enough to wait for them.
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Without music, life is a journey through a desert.
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When men talk about the agony of being men, they can never quite get away from the recurrent theme of self-pity. And when women talk about being women, they can never quite get away from the recurrent theme of blaming men.
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Evil would always come to me disguised in systems and dignified by law.
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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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I was born to be a point guard, but not a very good one.
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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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There is no downside to winning. It feels forever fabulous.
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