Her library would have been valuable to a bibliophile except she treated her books execrably. I would rarely open a volume that she had not desecrated by underlining her favorite sections with a ball-point pen.
PAT CONROYI could bear the memory, but I could not bear the music that made the memory such a killing thing.
More Pat Conroy Quotes
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Anyone who knows me well must understand and be sympathetic to my genuine need to be my own greatest hero. It is not a flaw of character; it is a catastrophe.
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Humanity is best described as inhumanity.
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Tell me everything that I must know. Hold nothing back.
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A recipe is a story that ends with a good meal.
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I discovered that He had simply given me a different voice to praise the inexhaustible beauty of the made world.
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Without music, life is a journey through a desert.
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We die long before women do, with our hearts exploding or our blood pressure rising or our livers eaten away by alcohol because that lake of grief inside us has no outlet.
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Men are prisoners of their genitalia and women are the keepers of the keys to paradise.
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Good writing is the hardest form of thinking. It involves the agony of turning profoundly difficult thoughts into lucid form, then forcing them into the tight-fitting uniform of language, making them visible and clear.
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The great teachers fill you up with hope and shower you with a thousand reasons to embrace all aspects of life.
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Then, too, I want a book so filled with story and character that I read page after page without thinking of food or drink because a writer has possessed me, crazed with an unappeasable thirst to know what happens next.
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But even her demons she invested with inordinate beauty, consecrated them with the dignity of her attention.
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Like everything else, love’s not worth much without some action to back it up.
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She was one of those Southerners who knew from an early age that the South could never be more for them than a fragrant prison, administered by a collective of loving but treacherous relatives.
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The safe places could only be visited; they could only grant a momentary intuition of sanctuary. The moment always came when we had to return to our real life to face the wounds and grief indigenous to our homr by the river.
PAT CONROY