I think women are foolish to pretend they are equal to men, they are far superior and always have been.
WILLIAM GOLDINGI think women are foolish to pretend they are equal to men, they are far superior and always have been.
WILLIAM GOLDINGThe beast was harmless and horrible; and the news must reach the others as soon as possible.
WILLIAM GOLDINGEven if you got rid of paper, you would still have story-tellers. In fact, you had the story-tellers before you had the paper.
WILLIAM GOLDINGAre we savages or what?
WILLIAM GOLDINGI’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 thinking about him. You kid yourself he’s all right really, an’ then when you see him again; it’s like asthma an’ you can’t breathe.
WILLIAM GOLDINGThe greatest pleasure is not – say – sex or geometry. It is just understanding. And if you can get people to understand their own humanity – well, that’s the job of the writer.
WILLIAM GOLDINGMaybe there is a beast… maybe it’s only us.
WILLIAM GOLDINGLanguage fits over experience like a straight-jacket.
WILLIAM GOLDINGthe conch exploded into a thousand white fragments and ceased to exist.
WILLIAM GOLDINGEvery novel is a biography. Well, then, this is a novel [The Paper Men] which is a biography that is pretending to be an autobiography. That’s what you could say about it.
WILLIAM GOLDINGPercival was mouse-coloured and had not been very attractive even to his mother.
WILLIAM GOLDINGI began to see what people were capable of doing. Anyone who moved through those years without understanding that man produces evil as a bee produces honey, must have been blind or wrong in the head.
WILLIAM GOLDINGYou have the older generation like Iris Murdoch and Angus Wilson who are not as old as Graham Greene, but still are coming on. I dare say anyone who knew the scene better than I know it could fill it in with a very satisfactory supply of novels.
WILLIAM GOLDINGHe lost himself in a maze of thoughts that were rendered vague by his lack of words to express them. Frowning, he tried again.
WILLIAM GOLDINGThe rules!” shouted Ralph, “you’re breaking the rules!” “Who cares?
WILLIAM GOLDINGI’ve come across a novel called The Palm-Wine Drinkard, by the Nigerian writer Amos Tutuola, that is really remarkable because it is a kind of fantasy of West African mythology all told in West African English which, of course, is not the same as standard English.
WILLIAM GOLDING