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Baseball fans love numbers. They love to swirl them around their mouths like Bordeaux wine.

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
Love
Swirl
Like
Swirls
Mouths
Wine
Baseball
Fans
Numbers
Around
Bordeaux

More quotes by Pat Conroy

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Love's action. It isn't talk and it never has been.
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We've pretended too much in our family, Luke, and hidden far too much. I think we're all going to pay a high price for our inability to face the truth.
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She had so mastered the strategies of camouflage that her own history had seemed a series of well-placed mirrors that kept her hidden from herself.
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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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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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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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The water was pure and cold and came out of the Apennines tasting like snow melted in the hands of a pretty girl.
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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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She thought she brought a gift of compassion for those exhausted souls who had not received a chest portion from the people who raised them. If compassion and therapy did not work, she could always send her patients to the local pharmacy for drugs.
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My father wouldn't let me take typing in childhood.
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Man wonders but God decides When to kill the Prince of Tides.
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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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The great teachers fill you up with hope and shower you with a thousand reasons to embrace all aspects of life. I wanted to follow Mr. Monte around for the rest of my life, learning everything he wished to share of impart, but I didn't know how to ask.
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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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My soul grazes like a lamb on the beauty of an indrawn tide.
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My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.
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Once you have traveled, the voyage never ends.
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There are no verdicts to childhood, only consequences, and the bright freight of memory.
Pat Conroy
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Fantasy is one of the soul's brighter porcelains.
Pat Conroy