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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.
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
Life
Waiting
Start
Knowledge
Stills
Pitied
Still
Tides
Real
Lived
Would
Terrible
Men
Already
More quotes by Pat Conroy
There are no verdicts to childhood, only consequences, and the bright freight of memory.
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Walking the streets of Charleston in the late afternoons of August was like walking through gauze or inhaling damaged silk.
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Without music, life is a journey through a desert.
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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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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've always found paranoia to be a perfectly defensible position.
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My soul grazes like a lamb on the beauty of an indrawn tide.
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The world of literature has everything in it, and it refuses to leave
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... the wing of a fly is proof enough of the existence of God for me.
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The English language on her tongue became a smoke-screen, without her eyes changing expression in the least.
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The safe places could only be visited they could only grant a momentary intuition of sanctuary. The moment always came when we had to return to our real life to face the wounds and grief indigenous to our homr by the river.
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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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... silence (can) be the most eloquent form of lying.
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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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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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The pursuit of greatness means that laziness has no place in your life.
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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 learned that if I could read, I could cook. I surprised myself I like it.
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You do not learn how to write novels in a writing program. You learn how by leading an interesting life. Open yourself up to all experience. Let life pour through you the way light pours through leaves.
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My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.
Pat Conroy