Quote

If I blow the conch and they don't come back then we've had it. We shan't keep the fire going. We'll be like animals. We'll never be rescued. If you don't blow, we'll soon be animals anyway.

William Golding

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William Golding
Age: 81 †
Born: 1911
Born: September 19
Died: 1993
Died: June 19
Novelist
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Newquay
Cornwall
William Gerald Albert Golding
Sir William Gerald Golding
Going
Blow
Never
Animals
Like
Soon
Fire
Animal
Keep
Shan
Back
Rescued
Come
Anyway

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What a man does defiles him, not what is done by others.
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Every novel is a biography. Well, then, this is a novel [The Paper Men] which is a biography that is pretending to be an autobiography. That's what you could say about it.
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The beast was harmless and horrible and the news must reach the others as soon as possible.
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Then you have people coming up like Malcolm Bradbury, a relatively young writer who deals with the academic scene and deals with it, I think, brilliantly.
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I suppose drama can either take the place of a novel or can be very closely allied with it. It's quite customary to turn a successful novel into a film or a television series because you can dramatize and pictorialize a novel.
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I'm scared of him, said Piggy, and that's why I know him. If you're scared of someone you hate him but you can't stop thinking about him. You kid yourself he's all right really, an' then when you see him again it's like asthma an' you can't breathe.
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He who rides the sea of the Nile must have sails woven of patience.
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There is, they say, no fool like an old fool.
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At the moment of vision, the eyes see nothing.
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the conch exploded into a thousand white fragments and ceased to exist.
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They accepted the pleasures of morning, the bright sun, the whelming sea and sweet air, as a time when play was good and life so full that hope was not necessary and therefore forgotten.
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I have a confession to make. The love affair of my life has been with the Greek language. I have now reached the age when it has occurred to me that I may have read some books for the last time. I suddenly thought that there are books I cannot bear not to read again before I die. One that stands out a mile is Homer's Iliad.
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This is our island. It's a good island. Until the grownups come to fetch us we'll have fun.
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They walked along, two continents of experience and feeling unable to communicate.
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Simon became inarticulate in his effort to express mankind's essential illness.
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My yesterdays walk with me. They keep step, they are gray faces that peer over my shoulder.
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Philosophy and Religion-what are they when the wind blows and the water gets up in lumps?
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How would I myself live in this proposed society? How long would it be before I went stark staring mad?
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He became absorbed beyond mere happiness as he felt himself exercising control over living things. He talked to them, urging them, ordering them. Driven back by the tide, his footprints became bays in which they were trapped and gave him the illusion of mastery.
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Only one novel is a novel: that is a successful novel.
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