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 MCCULLERSThe seed of the idea is developed by both labor and the unconscious, and the struggle that goes on between them.
More Carson McCullers Quotes
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The whole world was this symphony, and there was not enough of her to listen… Now that it was over there was only her heart beating like a rabbit and this terrible hurt.
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They are the we of me.
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The mind is like a richly woven tapestry in which the colors are distilled from the experiences of the senses, and the design drawn from the convolutions of the intellect.
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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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We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange.
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The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire!
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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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Jesus would be framed and in jail if he was living today.
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I must go home periodically to renew my sense of horror.
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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.
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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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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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Death is the great gamer with a sleeve of tricks.
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Don’t you loathe it when doctors use the word ‘we’ when it applies only and solely to yourself?
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It was better to be in a jail where you could bang the walls than in a jail you could not see.
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We are homesick most for the places we have never known.
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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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The writer must hew the phantom rock.
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You don’t know what it is to store up a lot of details and then come upon something real.
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After the first establishment of identity there comes the imperative need to lose this new-found sense of separateness and to belong to something larger and more powerful than the weak, lonely self. The sense of moral isolation is intolerable to us.
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The human heart is a lonely hunter-but the search for us southerners is more anguished.
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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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I´m a stranger in a strange land.
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I’m not explaining this right. What happened was this. There were these beautiful feelings and loose little pleasures inside me. And this woman was something like an assembly line for my soul.
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As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known.
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Wherever you look there’s meanness and corruption. This room, this bottle of grape wine, these fruits in the basket, are all products of profit and loss.
CARSON MCCULLERS