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.
CARSON MCCULLERSIt was better to be in a jail where you could bang the walls than in a jail you could not see.
More Carson McCullers Quotes
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All people belong to a We except me. Not to belong to a We makes you too lonesome.
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I must go home periodically to renew my sense of horror.
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Sometimes this fellow’s music was like little colored pieces of crystal candy, and other times it was the softest, saddest thing she had ever imagined about.
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Day and night she had drudged and struggled and thrown her soul into her work, and there was not much of her left over for anything else.
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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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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.
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But the hearts of small children are delicate organs. A cruel beginning in this world can twist them into curious shapes.
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The thinking mind is best controlled by the imagination.
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Maybe when people longed for a thing that bad the longing made them trust in anything that might give it to them.
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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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There are the lover and the beloved, but these two come from different countries.
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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 music was her-the real plain her…This music did not take a long time or a short time. It did not have anything to do with time going by at all. She sat with her arms around her legs, biting her salty knee very hard.
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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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For fear is a primary source of evil. And when the question “Who am I?” recurs and is unanswered, then fear and frustration project a negative attitude.
CARSON MCCULLERS






