Maybe half a dozen think they are a community, but, in general terms, I think English writers tend to face outwards, away from each other, and write in their own patch, as it were. — William Golding Copy Share Image
Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man's heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called… — William Golding Copy Share Image
“Once more, amid the breeze, the shouting, the slanting sunlight on the high mountain, was shed that glamour, that strange invisible light of friendship,… — William Golding Copy Share Image
“There ought to be some mode of life where all love is good, where one love can't compete with another but adds to it.” — William Golding Copy Share Image
His mind was crowded with memories; memories of the knowledge that had come to them when they closed in on the struggling pig, knowledge… — William Golding Copy Share Image
“I stood, in shame and confusion, seeing for the first time despite my anger a different picture of Evie in her life-long struggle to… — William Golding Copy Share Image
When you take a child who's hollering like hell, sit him on your knee, and say "once upon a time", you stop him hollering. As long as you go on telling him a story, he will listen. Novelists who neglect this fundamental effect do so at their peril. They become what is known as the experimental novelist, and an experimental… — William Golding Copy Share
The beast was harmless and horrible; and the news must reach the others as soon as possible. — William Golding Copy Share Image
“He tried to convey the compulsion to track down and kill that was swallowing him up.” — William Golding Copy Share Image
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… — William Golding Copy Share Image
