The young writer would be a fool to follow a theory. Teach yourself by your own mistakes; people learn only by error.
WILLIAM FAULKNERA writer is congenitally unable to tell the truth and that is why we call what he writes fiction.
More William Faulkner Quotes
-
-
Who gathers the withered rose?
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
All of us failed to match our dreams of perfection. So I rate us on the base of our splendid failure to do the impossible.
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 -
Perhaps they were right putting love into books. Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Now she hates me. I have taught her that, at least.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
I think now that the young man must possess or teach himself, training himself, in infinite patience, which is to try and to try until it comes right.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Gratitude is a quality similar to electricity: it must be produced and discharged and used up in order to exist at all.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Try to be better than yourself.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Nothing can destroy the good writer. The only thing that can alter the good writer is death.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
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 -
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
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Someone else looks at it and sees a slightly awry phase of it. But taken all together, the truth is in what they saw though nobody saw the truth intact.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Always dream and shoot higher than you know you can do.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
No one individual can tell the truth.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
All l mixed up with them, like trying to, having to, move your arms and legs with strings, only the same strings are hitched to all the other arms and legs and the others all trying and they don’t know why either except that the strings are all in one another’s way.
WILLIAM FAULKNER