A writer needs three things, experience, observation, and imagination, any two of which, at times any one of which, can supply the lack of the others.
WILLIAM FAULKNERIf a story is in you, it has to come out.
More William Faulkner Quotes
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I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it. Because no battle is ever won he said. They are not even fought.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Whatever its symbol – cross or crescent or whatever – that symbol is man’s reminder of his duty inside the human race.
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To live anywhere in the world today and be against equality because of race or color is like living in Alaska and being against snow.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
As long as I live under the capitalistic system I expect to have my life influenced by the demands of moneyed people.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Perhaps they were right putting love into books. Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
A man is the sum of his misfortunes. One day you’d think misfortune would get tired but then time is your misfortune
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station….
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You’ll absorb it. Then write. If it’s good, you’ll find out. If it’s not, throw it out of the window.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Try to be better than yourself.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
The problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat
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No one individual can tell the truth.
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History is not was, it is.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Yes. A man will talk about how he’d like to escape from living folks. But it’s the dead folks that do him the damage. It’s the dead ones that lay quiet in one place and dont try to hold him, that he cant escape from.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
I could smell the curves of the river beyond the dusk and I saw the last light supine and tranquil upon tideflats like pieces of broken mirror, then beyond them lights began in the pale clear air, trembling a little like butterflies hovering a long way off.
WILLIAM FAULKNER






