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The clock tick-tocked, solemn and profound. It might have been the dry pulse of the decaying house itself, after a while it whirred and cleared its throat and struck six times.
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
Six
Cleared
Profound
Tick
Times
Pulse
House
Solemn
Might
Struck
Dry
Throat
Clock
Decaying
More quotes by William Faulkner
She was the captain of her soul
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And when I think about that, I think that if nothing but being married will help a man, he's durn nigh hopeless.
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I know now that what makes a fool is an inability to take even his own good advice.
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Man knows so little about his fellows. In his eyes all men or women act upon what he believes would motivate him if he were mad enough to do what the other man or woman is doing.
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One day I was talking to Cora. She prayed for me because she believed I was blind to sin, wanting me to kneel and pray too, because people to whom sin is just a matter of words, to them salvation is just words too.
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Who gathers the withered rose?
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When I was little there was a picture in one of our books, a dark place into which a single weak ray of light came slanting upon two faces lifted out of the shadow.
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He is thinking quietly: I should not have got out of the habit of prayer.
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I decline to accept the end of man.
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I listen to the voices.
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Living is one constant and perpetual instant when the arras-veil before what-is-to-be hangs docile and even glad to the lightest naked thrust if we had dared, were brave enough (not wise enough: no wisdom needed here) to make the rending gash.
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Sometimes I aint so sho who's got ere a right to say when a man is crazy and when he aint. Sometimes I think it aint none of us pure crazy and aint none of us pure sane until the balance of us talks him that-a-way. It's like it aint so much what a fellow does, but it's the way the majority of folks is looking at him when he does it.
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You could do so much for me if you just would. If you just knew. I am I and you are you and I know it and you don't know it and you could do so much for me if you just would and if you just would then I could tell you and then nobody would have to know it except you and me.
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Men have been pacifists for every reason under the sun except to avoid danger and fighting.
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A gentleman accepts the responsibility of his actions and bears the burden of their consequences.
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Only the peak feels so sound and stable that the beginning of the falling is hidden for a little while.
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And even a liar can be scared into telling the truth, same as honest man can be tortured into telling a lie.
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A writer needs three things, experience, observation, and imagination, any two of which, at times any one of which, can supply the lack of the others.
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Tell about the South. What's it like there. What do they do there. Why do they live there. Why do they live at all.
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So vast, so limitless in capacity is man's imagination to disperse and burn away the rubble-dross of fact and probability, leaving only truth and dream.
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