The trouble was, if you were a chief you had to think, you had to be wise.
WILLIAM GOLDINGNothing is so impenetrable as laughter in a language you don’t understand.
More William Golding Quotes
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He who rides the sea of the Nile must have sails woven of patience.
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They walked along, two continents of experience and feeling unable to communicate.
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Only one novel is a novel: that is a successful novel.
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He became absorbed beyond mere happiness as he felt himself exercising control over living things. He talked to them, urging them, ordering them. Driven back by the tide, his footprints became bays in which they were trapped and gave him the illusion of mastery.
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But forgiveness must not only be given but received also.
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The thing is – fear can’t hurt you any more than a dream.
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Maybe there is a beast… maybe it’s only us.
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Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you? Close, close, close! I’m the reason why it’s no go? Why things are what they are?
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We just got to go on, that’s all. That’s what grownups would do.
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People don’t help much.
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At the moment of vision, the eyes see nothing.
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A crowd of grade-three thinkers, all shouting the same thing, all warming their hands at the fire of their own prejudices, will not thank you for pointing out the contradictions in their beliefs. Man is a gregarious animal, and enjoys agreement as cows will graze all the same way on the side of a hill.
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What kind of human person has a favorite eraser?
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Simon became inarticulate in his effort to express mankind’s essential illness.
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How would I myself live in this proposed society? How long would it be before I went stark staring mad?
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Art is partly communication, but only partly. The rest is discovery.
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Language fits over experience like a straight-jacket.
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I am here; and here is nowhere in particular.
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the conch exploded into a thousand white fragments and ceased to exist.
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An orotundity, which I define as Nobelitis a pomposity in which one is treated as representative of more than oneself by someone conscious of representing more than himself.
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It wasn’t until I was 37 that I grasped the great truth that you’ve got to write your own books and nobody else’s, and then everything followed from there.
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The mask was a thing on it’s own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-conciousness.
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Ralph… would treat the day’s decisions as though he were playing chess. The only trouble was that he would never be a very good chess player.
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Life should serve up its feast of experience in a series of courses.
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We did everything adults would do. What went wrong?
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Honestly, I haven’t the time to read contemporary writers. I know this is awful, but in the main it is true.
WILLIAM GOLDING