Nothing is so musical as the sound of pouring bourbon for the first drink on a Sunday morning. Not Bach or Schubert or any of those masters. — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
“Because things accumulate around your name," said Berenice. "You have a name and one thing after another happens to you, and you behave in… — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
It was like she was cheated. Only nobody had cheated her. So there was nobody to take it out on. However, just the same… — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
“Love is a joint experience between two persons—but the fact that it is a joint experience does not mean that it is a similar… — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
“He was like a man who had served a term in prison or had been to Harvard College or had left for a long… — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
Comparing the Brooklyn that I know with Manhattan is like comparing a comfortable and complacent duenna to her more brilliant and neurotic sister. — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
“Son, do you know how love should be begun?" The boy sat small and listening and still. Slowly he shook his head. The old… — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
The dimensions of a work of art are seldom realized by the author until the work is accomplished. It is like a flowering dream.… — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
Now hoppin'-john was F. Jasmine's very favorite food. She had always warned them to wave a plate of rice and peas before her nose… — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
There's nothing that makes you so aware of the improvisation of human existence as a song unfinished. Or an old address book. — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
“Maybe when people longed for a thing that bad the longing made them trust in anything that might give it to them . .… — Carson McCullers Copy Share Image
