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Now she hates me. I have taught her that, at least.

William Faulkner

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William Faulkner
Age: 64 †
Born: 1897
Born: September 25
Died: 1962
Died: July 6
Author
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Screenwriter
Short Story Writer
Writer
New Albany
Mississippi
William Cuthbert Faulkner
William Falkner
William Cuthbert Falkner
Hates
Taught
Least
Hate

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We have all heard what we wanted to hear! Truth that sounds right to our ears!
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Don't be 'a writer'. Be writing.
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Idleness breeds our better virtues.
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A pair of jaybirds came up from nowhere, whirled up on the blast like gaudy scraps of cloth or paper and lodged in the mulberries, where they swung in raucous tilt and recover, screaming into the wind that ripped their harsh cries onward and away like scraps of paper or of cloth in turn.
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Who is he who will affirm that there must be a web of flesh and bone to hold the shape of love?
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A fellow gets to thinking. About all the sorrow and afflictions in this world how it's liable to strike anywhere, like lightning.
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All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us on the base of our splendid failure to do the impossible.
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We have to start teaching ourselves not to be afraid.
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You can't. You just have to.
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The reason you will not say it is, when you say it, even to yourself, you will know it is true.
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When I was a boy I first learned how much better water tastes when it has set a while in a cedar bucket. Warmish-cool, with a faint taste like the hot July wind in Cedar trees smells.
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It's all now you see: tomorrow began yesterday and yesterday won't be over until tomorrow.
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Unless you're ashamed of yourself now and then, you're not honest
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We must be free not because we claim freedom, but because we practice it.
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To the man grown the long crowded mile of his boyhood becomes less than the throw of a stone.
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This is a free country. Folks have a right to send me letters, and I have a right not to read them.
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Don Quixote — I read that every year, as some do the Bible.
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Just when do men that have different blood in them stop hating one another?
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She loved him not only in spite of but because he himself was incapable of love.
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The good artist believes that nobody is good enough to give him advice. He has supreme vanity. No matter how much he admires the old writer, he wants to beat him.
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