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Then Ben wailed again, hopeless and prolonged. It was nothing. Just sound. It might have been all time and injustice and sorrow become vocal for an instant by a conjunction of planets.
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
Sorrow
Conjunction
Sound
Conjunctions
Become
Prolonged
Might
Vocal
Nothing
Hopeless
Time
Instant
Injustice
Planets
Wailed
More quotes by William Faulkner
The past isn't over. It isn't even past.
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Had Passion and Purity never encountered, Tenderness had never come into the world.
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Most men are a little better than their circumstances give them a chance to be.
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Let the writer take up surgery or bricklaying if he is interested in technique.
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You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore.
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I believe in God, God. God, I believe in God.
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Now she hates me. I have taught her that, at least.
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In Europe, being an artist is a form of behavior. In America, it's an excuse for a form of behavior.
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Necessity has a way of obliterating from our conduct various delicate scruples regarding honor and pride.
William Faulkner
Menfolks listens to somebody because of what he says. Women don't. They don't care what he said. They listens because of what he is.
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The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means and hold it fixed so that a hundred years later, when a stranger looks at it, it moves again since it is life.
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People everywhere are about the same, but ... it did seem that in a small town, where evil is harder to accomplish, where opportunities for privacy are scarcer, that people can invent more of it in other people's names. Because that was all it required: that idea, that single idle word blown from mind to mind.
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Hemingway shot himself. I don't like a man that takes the short way home.
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The writer in America isn't part of the culture of this country. He's like a fine dog. People like him around, but he's of no use.
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...It seems hard that a man in his need could be so flouted by a road.
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They will endure. They are better than we are. Stronger than we are. Their vices are vices aped from white men or that white men and bondage have taught them: improvidence and intemperance and evasion-not laziness: evasion: of what white men had set them to, not for their aggrandizement or even comfort but his own.
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We shall not kill and maybe next time we even won't.
William Faulkner
Perhaps they were right putting love into books. Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.
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Only when the clock stops does time come to life
William Faulkner
...the reason for living was to get ready to stay dead a long time.
William Faulkner
