The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved.
CARSON MCCULLERSThe lover craves any possible relation with the beloved, even if this experience can cause him only pain.
More Carson McCullers Quotes
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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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She wished there was some place where she could go to hum it out loud. Some kind of music was too private to sing in a house cram fall of people. It was funny, too, how lonesome a person could be in a crowded house.
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But you haven’t never loved God nor even nair person. You hard and tough as cowhide. But just the same I knows you. This afternoon you going to roam all over the place without never being satisfied.
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Writing, for me, is a search for God.
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His own life seemed so solitary, a fragile column supporting nothing amidst the wreckage of the years.
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If you look around, at times the value may seem to be little or nothing at all. Often after you have sweated and tried and things are not better for you, there comes a feeling deep down in the soul that you are not worth much.
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To know who you are, you have to have a place to come from.
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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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All people belong to a We except me. Not to belong to a We makes you too lonesome.
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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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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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The curt truth is that, in a deep secret way, the state of being beloved is intolerable to many.
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But look what the Church has done to Jesus during the last two thousand years. What they have made of Him. How they have turned every word He spoke for their own vile ends. Jesus would be framed and in jail if he was living today.
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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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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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