You must always know the past, for there is no real Was, there is only Is. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
A writer must teach himself that the basest of all things is to be afraid. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
Gettysburg. . . . You cant understand it. You would have to be born there. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
Don't bother just to be better than others. Try to be better than yourself. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
There is no such thing as a bad whisky. Some whiskies just happen to be better than others. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
There are some things for which three words are three too many, and three thousand words that many words too less. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
If I had not existed, someone else would have written me, Hemingway, Dostoyevsky, all of us. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
I don't know anything about inspiration because I don't know what inspiration is; I've heard about it, but I never saw it. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
Success is feminine and like a woman, if you cringe before her, she will override you — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
Who is he who will affirm that there must be a web of flesh and bone to hold the shape of love? — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
An artist is completely amoral in that he will rob, beg, borrow, or steal from anybody and everybody to get the work… — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
I do not rewrite unless I am absolutely sure that I can express the material better if I do rewrite it. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
You could do so much for me if you just would. If you just knew. I am I and you are you… — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
“Ninety-nine percent talent…ninety-nine percent discipline…ninety-nine percent work. He must never be satisfied with what he does. It is never as good as… — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
I've got to feel the pencil and see the words at the end of the pencil, — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
You cannot swim for new horizons until you have courage to lose sight of the shore. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
It feels almost soft, like something to be caressed. Only gold feels that way. — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
“The river itself is not a hundred yards across, and pa and Vernon and Vardaman and Dewey Dell are the only things in sight… — William Faulkner Copy Share
The quality an artist must have is objectivity in judging his work, plus the honesty and courage not to kid himself about it. — William Faulkner Copy Share
“Luster returned, wearing a stiff new straw hat with a colored band and carrying a cloth cap. The hat seemed to isolate Luster's skull,… — William Faulkner Copy Share
It is easy enough to say that man is immortal simply because he will endure: that when the last ding-dong of doom has clanged… — William Faulkner Copy Share
“What matters is at the end of life, when you're about to pass into oblivion, that you've at least scratched 'Kilroy was here,' on… — William Faulkner Copy Share
I've got to feel the pencil and see the words at the end of the pencil, — William Faulkner Copy Share
And sure enough, even waiting will end...if you can just wait long enough. — William Faulkner Copy Share
“I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice,… — William Faulkner Copy Share
Never be afraid to raise your voice for honesty and truth and compassion against injustice and lying and greed. If people all over the… — William Faulkner Copy Share
To understand the world, you must first understand a place like Mississippi. — William Faulkner Copy Share
“What modren ideas?” pap said. “I didn’t know there was but one idea about work—until it is done, it ain’t done, and when it… — William Faulkner Copy Share
“It was only as he put his hand on the door that he became aware of complete silence beyond it, a silence which he… — William Faulkner Copy Share
“She has no mother because fatherblood hates with love and pride, but motherblood with hate loves and cohabits.” — William Faulkner Copy Share
“Byron listened quietly, thinking to himself how people everywhere are about the same, but that it did seem that in a small town, where… — William Faulkner Copy Share
“It was too late. Maybe yesterday, while I was still a child, but not now. I knew too much, had seen too much, I… — William Faulkner Copy Share
