A most mediocre person can be the object of a love which is wild, extravagant, and beautiful as the poison lillies of the swamp.
CARSON MCCULLERSMaybe it was a thing that could not be spoken with words or writing. Maybe he would have to let her understand this in a different way. That was the feeling she had with him.
More Carson McCullers Quotes
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For you see, when us people who know run into each other that’s an event. It almost never happens. Sometimes we meet each other and neither guesses that the other is one who knows. That’s a bad thing. It’s happened to me a lot of times. But you see there are so few of us.
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This was her, Mick Kelly, walking in the daytime and by herself at night. In the hot sun and in the dark with all the plans and feelings.
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The thinking mind is best controlled by the imagination.
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She was afraid of these things that made her suddenly wonder who she was, and what she was going to be in the world, and why she was standing at that minute, seeing a light, or listening, or staring up into the sky: alone.
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We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange.
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I see a green tree. And to me it is green. And you would call the tree green also. And we would agree on this. But is the colour you see as green the same colour I see as green?
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The heart of a hurt child can shrink so that forever afterward it is hard and pitted as the seed of a peach. Or again, the heart of such a child may fester and swell until it is a misery to carry within the body, easily chafed and hurt by the most ordinary things.
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This fear is one of the horrors of an author’s life. Where does work come from? What chance, what small episode will start the chain of creation?
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There are the lover and the beloved, but these two come from different countries.
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The writer must hew the phantom rock.
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Comparing the Brooklyn that I know with Manhattan is like comparing a comfortable and complacent duenna to her more brilliant and neurotic sister.
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The memories of childhood are like clear candles in an acre of night, illuminating fixed scenes from surrounding darkness.
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I was like a cat always climbing the wrong tree.
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But no value has been put on human life; it is given to us free and taken without being paid for. What is it worth?
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They are the we of me.
CARSON MCCULLERS