Tomorrow night is nothing but one long sleepless wrestle with yesterday’s omissions and regrets.
WILLIAM FAULKNERThey say that it is the practiced liar who can deceive. But so often the practiced and chronic liar deceives only himself; it is the man who all his life has been selfconvicted of veracity whose lies find quickest credence.
More William Faulkner Quotes
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No man can cause more grief than that one clinging blindly to the vices of his ancestors.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
The best fiction is far more true than any journalism.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
For every Southern boy fourteen years old, not once but whenever he wants it, there is the instant when it’s still not yet two o’clock on that July afternoon in 1863…
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Believe that man will not merely endure; he will prevail.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
War and drink are the two things man is never too poor to buy.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
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 FAULKNER -
The next time you try to seduce anyone, don’t do it with talk, with words.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
There are some things for which three words are three too many, and three thousand words that many words too less.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Remember, all Tolstoy ever said to describe Anna Karenina was that she was beautiful and could see in the dark like a cat. Every man has a different idea of what’s beautiful, and it’s best to take the gesture, the shadow of the branch, and let the mind create the tree.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Life is a process of preparing to be dead for a long time.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
Unless you’re ashamed of yourself now and then, you’re not honest
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 -
An artist is a creature driven by demons. He don’t know why they choose him and he’s usually too busy to wonder why.
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
The only thing worth writing about is the human heart in conflict with itself
WILLIAM FAULKNER -
I’d have wasted a lot of time and trouble before I learned that the best way to take all people, black or white, is to take them for what they think they are, then leave them alone.
WILLIAM FAULKNER