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.
CARSON MCCULLERSI have never gone to a doctor in my adult life, feeling instinctively that doctors meant either cutting or, just as bad, diet.
More Carson McCullers Quotes
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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.
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Doctors, by God; washing their hands, looking out windows, fiddling with dreadful things while you are stretched out on a table or half undressed on a chair.
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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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It is music that causes the heart to broaden and the listener to grow cold with ecstasy and fright.
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I got to wear blinders all the time so I won’t think sideways or in the past.
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But no value has been put on human life; it is given to us free and taken without being paid for. What is it worth?
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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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Because in some men it is in them to give up everything personal at some time, before it ferments and poisons–throw it to some human being or some human idea. They have to.
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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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Next to music beer was best.
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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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We are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange.
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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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I live with the people I create and it has always made my essential loneliness less keen.
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I have more to say than Hemingway, and God knows, I say it better than Faulkner.
CARSON MCCULLERS






