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I meditated on love and reasoned it out. I realized what is wrong with us. Men fall in love for the first time. And what do they fall in love with? …They fall in love with a woman. They start at the wrong end of love. They begin at the climax.

Carson McCullers

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Fall First Love Meditate Men Realize Reason Start With Women Wrong

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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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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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The memories of childhood have a strange shuttling quality, and areas of darkness ring the spaces of light.
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I meditated on love and reasoned it out. I realized what is wrong with us. Men fall in love for the first time. And what do they fall in love with? …They fall in love with a woman. They start at the wrong end of love. They begin at the climax.
CARSON MCCULLERS

Fall First Love Meditate Men Realize Reason Start With Women Wrong
Can you wonder it is so miserable? Do you know how men should love? A tree. A rock. A cloud.
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We are homesick most for the places we have never known.
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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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We wander, question. But the answer waits in each separate heart – the answer of our own identity and the way by which we can master loneliness and feel that at last we belong.
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The Heart is a Lonely Hunter.
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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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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.
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There are corporations worth billions of dollars – and hundreds of thousands of people who don’t get to eat.
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Writing, for me, is a search for God.
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The Heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire!
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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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Coming down was the hardest part of any climbing.
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Any Climb Come Down Hardest Part

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