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The memories of childhood are like clear candles in an acre of night, illuminating fixed scenes from surrounding darkness.

Carson McCullers

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

Bourbon Drink First Master Morning Musical Nothing Pour Sound Sunday
The music left only this bad hurt in her, and a blankness. She could not remember any of the symphony, not even the last few notes. She tried to remember, but no sound at all came to her. Now that it was over there was only her heart like a rabbit and this terrible hurt.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Bad Blankness Could Even Few Her Hut Last Must Left Note Remember She Symphony
Love of another individual opens a new relation between the personality and the world. The lover responds in a new way to nature and may even write poetry.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Another Even Individual Love Nature Open Personality Poetry Relation Respond Way Write
They are the we of me.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Me They We
You going to traipse all around like you haves to find something lost. You going to work yourself up with excitement. Your heart going to beat hard enough to kill you because you don’t love and don’t have peace. And then some day you going to bust loose and be ruined.
CARSON MCCULLERS

All Around Bust Day Enough Excitement Loose Lost Peace Ruin Some Something Traipse Work
People, unless they are nilly-willy or very sick, cannot be taken into the hands and be changed overnight into somthing more worth-while and profitable.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Are Change Hand Milly Overnight People Profitable Something Taken They Unless Very While Willy Worth
The memories of childhood have a strange shuttling quality, and areas of darkness ring the spaces of light.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Area Childhood Darkness Light Memories Shut Space Stranger
The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire!
CARSON MCCULLERS

Desire Herat Hunter Loney Only
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.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Being Card Declare Evening Human Library Manage Over Pass Suffer Table Thing
I got to wear blinders all the time so I won’t think sideways or in the past.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Blinder Past Sideway Think Time Wear
You don’t know what it is to store up a lot of details and then come upon something real.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Come Detail Know Lot Real Something Store
In his face there came to be a brooding peace that is seen most often in the faces of the very sorrowful or the very wise. But still he wandered through the streets of the town, always silent and alone.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Broad Came Face Most Peace Seen Sorrowful Very Wise
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.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Country Dark Daytime Feel Herself Hot Night People Plan Sun Walk
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?
CARSON MCCULLERS

Addition Been Come Equality Found Freedom Individual Principle Start True
I want – I want – I want – was all that she could think about – but just what this real want was she did not know.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Could Know Real Think Want
The bewildered soul can answer only: “Since I do not understand ‘Who I am,’ I only know what I am not.” The corollary of this emotional incertitude is snobbism, intolerance and racial hate.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Answer Bewilder Emotional Hate Incertain Incertitude Only Racial Soul Understand

The memories of childhood are like clear candles in an acre of night, illuminating fixed scenes from surrounding darkness.

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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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