We, men, die because our faces were not watered enough.
PAT CONROYThe English language on her tongue became a smoke-screen, without her eyes changing expression in the least.
More Pat Conroy Quotes
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I have heard it said that an inoculation to the sights and smells of the Carolina lowcountry is an almost irreversible antidote to the charms of other landscapes, other alien geographies.
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Man wonders but God decides When to kill the Prince of Tides.
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Good writing is the hardest form of thinking. It involves the agony of turning profoundly difficult thoughts into lucid form, then forcing them into the tight-fitting uniform of language, making them visible and clear.
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But no one walks out of his family without reprisals: a family is too disciplined an army to offer compassion to its deserters.
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A library could show you everything if you knew where to look.
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Good coaching is good teaching and nothing else.
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The mind is an intricate mechanism that can be run on the fuels of both victory and defeatism.
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Carolina beach music,” Dupree said, coming up on the porch. “The holiest sound on earth.
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Here’s what I love: when a great writer turns me into a Jew from Chicago, a lesbian out of South Carolina, or a black woman moving into a subway entrance in Harlem. Turn me into something else, writers of the world. Make me Muslim, heretic, hermaphrodite.
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William Ferris has long reigned as the unimpeachable source of the entire southern experience. His work on southern folklore and the composition of the Encyclopedia of Southern Culture have made him both legendary and necessary. His book,
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There are no ideas in the South, just barbecue.
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Then, too, I want a book so filled with story and character that I read page after page without thinking of food or drink because a writer has possessed me, crazed with an unappeasable thirst to know what happens next.
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I was born and raised on a Carolina sea island and I carried the sunshine of the low-country, inked in dark gold, on my back and shoulders.
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A family is one of nature’s solubles; it dissolves in time like salt in rainwater.
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Few things linger longer or become more indwelling than that feeling of both completion and emptiness when a great book ends. That the book accompanies the reader forever from that day forward is part of literature’s profligate generosity.
PAT CONROY






