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The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire!

Carson McCullers

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

Between Develop Go Grow Labor Nature Seed Struggle Them Uncoincuiious
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.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Cheat Like Nobody Out Same Feel She Take
Writing, for me, is a search for God.
CARSON MCCULLERS

God Me Search Write
I once wrote a story about a writer who could not write anymore, and my friend Tennessee Williams said, ‘How could you dare write that story, it’s the most frightening work I have ever read.’ I was pretty well sunk while I was writing it.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Anymore Country Dare Friend Fright Most People Person Story Sunk Write Wrote
Owing to the fact he was a mute they were able to give him all the qualities they wanted him to have.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Able Fact Fate Gave Have Own Quality Want
I must go home periodically to renew my sense of horror.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Home Honor Periodically Renew Sense
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
I live with the people I create and it has always made my essential loneliness less keen.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Always Essential Keen Less Loneliness Made People Create
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
A fellow can’t live without giving his passive acceptance to meanness. Somebody wears his tail to a frazzle for every mouthful we eat and every stitch we wear-and nobody seems to know. Everybody is blind, dumb, and blunt-headed-stupid and mean.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Blind Dump Everybody Fellow Frazzle Meanness Mouthful Passive Stupid Wear
The memories of childhood are like clear candles in an acre of night, illuminating fixed scenes from surrounding darkness.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Acre Candle Child Clear Darkness Fix Illimainate Memory Night Scene Surround
Comparing the Brooklyn that I know with Manhattan is like comparing a comfortable and complacent duenna to her more brilliant and neurotic sister.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Brilliant Comfortable Company Compare Complacent Country Duenna Neurotic People Person Sister
Once you have lived with another, it is a great torture to have to live alone.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Alone Author Great Live Once Torture
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
All people belong to a We except me. Not to belong to a We makes you too lonesome.
CARSON MCCULLERS

All Belong Except Loneliness Me People Too
All men are lonely. But sometimes it seems to me that we Americans are the loneliest of all. Our hunger for foreign places and new ways has been with us almost like a national disease. Our literature is stamped with a quality of longing and unrest, and our writers have been great wanderers.
CARSON MCCULLERS

All Country Loneliest Lonely Men Seem Sometimes

The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire!

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The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire!

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