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The candle-buds opened their wide white flowers....Their scent spilled out into the air and took possession of the island.
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
Air
Scent
Flower
Island
Took
Candle
White
Islands
Opened
Buds
Flowers
Spilled
Possession
Huts
Wide
Bud
More quotes by William Golding
Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against this as a method, but it is not what English writers do.
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However you disguise novels, they are always biographies.
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One's intelligence may march about and about a problem, but the solution does not come gradually into view. One moment it is not. The next it is there.
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We did everything adults would do. What went wrong?
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And I've been wearing specs since I was three.
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How can you expect to be rescued if you don’t put first things first and act proper?
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I think they've got 250 languages in Nigeria, and so English is a sort of lingua franca between the 250 languages.
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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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While I am on, I can discipline myself to that extent. When I am off, I can't discipline myself at all. On the other hand, when I am off, there are so many things I like doing, it doesn't really matter.
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Simon became inarticulate in his effort to express mankind's essential illness.
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I think there might even come a time when I would read Virgil again. Ovid's Metamorphoses, perhaps, not because the music goes round and round and never comes out, but because it's an extraordinary picture of ceaseless change that never comes to an end.
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Are we savages or what?
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Couldn't a fire outrun a galloping horse?
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He doesn't mind if he dies... indeed, he would like to die but yet he fears to fall. He would welcome a long sleep but not at the price of falling to it.
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Which is better -- to be a pack of painted Indians like you are, or to be sensible like Ralph is? Which is better -- to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill? Which is better, law and rescue, or hunting and breaking things up?
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Life's scientific, but we don't know, do we? Not certainly, I mean.
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We have a disharmony in our natures. We cannot live together without injuring each other.
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Percival was mouse-coloured and had not been very attractive even to his mother.
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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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What could be safer than the bus center with its lamps and wheels?
William Golding
