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The saddest thing about love, Joe, is that not only the love cannot last forever, but even the heartbreak is soon forgotten.
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
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Writer
New Albany
Mississippi
William Cuthbert Faulkner
William Falkner
William Cuthbert Falkner
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Cannot
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Even
Heartbreak
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Forgotten
Love
Soon
Forever
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He is thinking quietly: I should not have got out of the habit of prayer.
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I do not rewrite unless I am absolutely sure that I can express the material better if I do rewrite it.
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If there was anything at all in the Book, anything of hope and peace for His blind and bewildered spawn which He had chosen above all others to offer immortality, THOU SHALT NOT KILL must be it.
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Now she hates me. I have taught her that, at least.
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I love Virginians because Virginians are all snobs and I like snobs. A snob has to spend so much time being a snob that he has little time left to meddle with you.
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The artists who want to be writers, read the reviews the artists who want to write, don't.
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So long as the deceit ran along quiet and monotonous, all of us let ourselves be deceived, abetting it unawares or maybe through cowardice.
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He was looking at her from behind the smiling that wasn't smiling but was something you were not supposed to see beyond.
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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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Maybe the only thing worse than having to give gratitude constantlyall the time, is having to accept it.
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This does not matter. This is not anything yet. It all depends on what you do with it, afterward.
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Women do have an affinity for evil, for believing that no woman is to be trusted, but that some men are too innocent to protect themselves.
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The air brightened, the running shadow patches were now the obverse, and it seemed to him that the fact that the day was clearing was another cunning stroke on the part of the foe, the fresh battle toward which he was carrying ancient wounds.
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Gratitude is a quality similar to electricity: it must be produced and discharged and used up in order to exist at all.
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the problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat
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You have to write badly in order to write well.
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