Living is one constant and perpetual instant when the arras-veil before what-is-to-be hangs docile and even glad to the lightest naked thrust… — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
Then Ben wailed again, hopeless and prolonged. It was nothing. Just sound. It might have been all time and injustice and sorrow… — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
For every Southern boy fourteen years old, not once but whenever he wants it, there is the instant when it's still not… — William Faulkner Copy Share Image
I, the dreamer clinging yet to the dream as the patient clings to the last thin unbearable ecstatic instant of agony in… — 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
