It was better to be in a jail where you could bang the walls than in a jail you could not see.
CARSON MCCULLERSThe memories of childhood are like clear candles in an acre of night, illuminating fixed scenes from surrounding darkness.
More Carson McCullers Quotes
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I run these little pieces of myself through her and I come out complete. Now do you follow me?
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What are the sources of an illumination? To me, they come after hours of searching and keeping my soul ready. Yet they come in a flash, as a religious phenomenon.
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I want – I want – I want – was all that she could think about – but just what this real want was she did not know.
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To find some lasting comfort in the arms of anothers fire…driven by a desperate hunger to the arms of a neon light, the heart is a lonely hunter when there’s no sign of love in sight!
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I have never gone to a doctor in my adult life, feeling instinctively that doctors meant either cutting or, just as bad, diet.
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Coming down was the hardest part of any climbing.
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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.
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There is no stillness like the quiet of the first cold nights in the fall.
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And the curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being loved is intolerable to many.
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A writer soon discovers he has no single identity but lives the lives of all the people he creates and his weathers are independent of the actual day around him.
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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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The human heart is a lonely hunter-but the search for us southerners is more anguished.
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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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Falling in love is the easiest thing in the world. It’s standing in love that matters.
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They are the we of me.
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She stood in front of the mirror a long time, and finally decided she either looked like a sap or else she looked very beautiful. One or the other.
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The dimensions of a work of art are seldom realized by the author until the work is accomplished. It is like a flowering dream. Ideas grow, budding silently, and there are a thousand illuminations coming day by day as the work progresses.
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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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The world is certainty a sudden place.
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The trouble with me is that for a long time I have just been an I person.
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There is so much truth in children and so little self-consciousness. It always strikes me that they are so capable of losing and finding themselves and also losing and finding those things they feel close to.
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Once you have lived with another, it is a great torture to have to live alone.
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We are homesick most for the places we have never known.
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Through the lies, she lived vicariously. The lies doubled the little of her existence that was left over from work and augmented the little rag end of her personal life.
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The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved.
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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?
CARSON MCCULLERS