Can you wonder it is so miserable? Do you know how men should love? A tree. A rock. A cloud.
CARSON MCCULLERSFor you see, when us people who know run into each other that’s an event. It almost never happens. Sometimes we meet each other and neither guesses that the other is one who knows. That’s a bad thing. It’s happened to me a lot of times. But you see there are so few of us.
More Carson McCullers Quotes
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The human heart is a lonely hunter-but the search for us southerners is more anguished.
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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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The dimensions of a work of art are seldom realized by the author until the work is accomplished. It is like a flowering dream. Ideas grow, budding silently, and there are a thousand illuminations coming day by day as the work progresses.
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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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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.
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People, unless they are nilly-willy or very sick, cannot be taken into the hands and be changed overnight into somthing more worth-while and profitable.
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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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Through the lies, she lived vicariously. The lies doubled the little of her existence that was left over from work and augmented the little rag end of her personal life.
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Maybe it was a thing that could not be spoken with words or writing. Maybe he would have to let her understand this in a different way. That was the feeling she had with him.
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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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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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Death is the great gamer with a sleeve of tricks.
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I run these little pieces of myself through her and I come out complete. Now do you follow me?
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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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I am not meant to be alone and without you who understands.
CARSON MCCULLERS






