It was better to be in a jail where you could bang the walls than in a jail you could not see.
CARSON MCCULLERSComparing the Brooklyn that I know with Manhattan is like comparing a comfortable and complacent duenna to her more brilliant and neurotic sister.
More Carson McCullers Quotes
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The writer must hew the phantom rock.
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It was like she was cheated. Only nobody had cheated her. So there was nobody to take it out on. However, just the same she had that feeling. Cheated.
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How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?
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Imagination takes humility, love and great courage.
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There is no stillness like the quiet of the first cold nights in the fall.
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We are homesick most for the places we have never known.
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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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For in a swift radiance of illumination he saw a glimpse of human struggle and valor. Of the endless fluid passage of the humanity through endless time. And of those who labor and of those who – one word- love. His soul expanded. But for a moment only. For in him, he felt a warning, a shaft of terror.
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We live in the richest country in the world. There’s plenty and to spare for no man, woman, or child to be in want.
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It was like they waited to tell each other things that had never been told before. What she had to say was terrible and afraid. But what he would tell her was so true that it would make everything all right.
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Being human, she suffered from this lack and did what she could to make up for it. If she passed the evening bent over a table in the library and later declared that she had spent that time playing cards, it was as though she had managed to do both those things.
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There’s nothing that makes you so aware of the improvisation of human existence as a song unfinished. Or an old address book.
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The closest thing to being cared for is to care for someone else.
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And in addition to this our country was founded on what should have been a great, true principle – the freedom, equality, and rights of each individual. Huh! And what has come of that start?
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A seed grows in writing as in nature. The seed of the idea is developed by both labor and the unconscious, and the struggle that goes on between them.
CARSON MCCULLERS