Each of us would remember that all during our lives. It was the purest moment of freedom and headlong exhilaration that I had ever felt. A wordless covenant was set, and I would go back in my imagination, and return to where happiness seemed so easy to touch.
PAT CONROYLike everything else, love’s not worth much without some action to back it up.
More Pat Conroy Quotes
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The most powerful words in English are ‘Tell me a story,’ words that are intimately related to the complexity of history, the origins of language, the continuity of the species, the taproot of our humanity, our singularity, and art itself.
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I lived with the terrible knowledge that one day I would be an old man still waiting for my real life to start. Already, I pitied that old man.
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Do you think that Hemingway knew he was a writer at twenty years old? No, he did not. Or Fitzgerald, or Wolfe. This is a difficult concept to grasp. Hemingway didn’t know he was Ernest Hemingway when he was a young man.
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My wound is geography. It is also my anchorage, my port of call.
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The great teachers fill you up with hope and shower you with a thousand reasons to embrace all aspects of life.
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Red Hook Road made me happy, and happy to be alive. It took me out of my home on the coast of South Carolina, placed me in the town along Red hook Road, and changed me the way good books always do.
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Like everything else, love’s not worth much without some action to back it up.
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We, men, die because our faces were not watered enough.
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When mom and dad went to war the only prisoners they took were the children
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Good coaching is good teaching and nothing else.
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A recipe is a story that ends with a good meal.
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Baseball fans love numbers. They love to swirl them around their mouths like Bordeaux wine.
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Once I had told her that I would rather see a museum bombed than a book underlined, but she dismissed my argument as mere sentimentality. She marked her books so that stunning images and ideas would not be lost to her.
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My mother, Southern to the bone, once told me, “All Southern literature can be summed up in these words: ‘On the night the hogs ate Willie, Mama died when she heard what Daddy did to Sister.’” She raised me up to be a Southern writer, but it wasn’t easy.
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When men talk about the agony of being men, they can never quite get away from the recurrent theme of self-pity.
PAT CONROY