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They walked along, two continents of experience and feeling unable to communicate.

William Golding

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Along Communicate Continent Experience Feel Unable Walk

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Worse than madness. Sanity.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Madness Sanity Worse
Sleep is when all the unsorted stuff comes flying out as from a dustbin upset in a high wind.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Come Dustbin Fly High Sleep Stuff Unsort Upet Wind
If faces were different when lit from above or below — what was a face? What was anything?
WILLIAM GOLDING

Above Anything Below Face Facem Different When
One tries to tell a truth, and one hopes that the truth has a general application rather than just a specific one.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Application General Hope One Specific Tell Truth Try
The trouble was, if you were a chief you had to think, you had to be wise.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Chief Think Trouble Wise
People don’t help much.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Help Much People
Only one novel is a novel: that is a successful novel.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Novel One Only Successful
A star appeared…and was momentarily eclipsed by some movement.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Appear Eclipse Momentarily Movement Some Star
Honestly, I haven’t the time to read contemporary writers. I know this is awful, but in the main it is true.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Awful Contemporary Honestly Main Raed Time True Write
Simon became inarticulate in his effort to express mankind’s essential illness.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Become Effort Essential Express Illness Inarticulate Mankind People
The thing is – fear can’t hurt you any more than a dream.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Dream Fear Hurt More Thing
I think women are foolish to pretend they are equal to men, they are far superior and always have been.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Always Been Foolish Pretend Superior Think
Percival was mouse-coloured and had not been very attractive even to his mother.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Attractive Beem Cloured Even Mother Mouse Percival Very
I hope my books make statements about our general condition.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Book Condition General Hope Make Statement
He lost himself in a maze of thoughts that were rendered vague by his lack of words to express them. Frowning, he tried again.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Again Express Follow Himself Lack Lost Maze Render Thought Vague Word
We’re all mad, the whole damned race. We’re wrapped in illusions, delusions, confusions about the penetrability of partitions, we’re all mad and in solitary confinement.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Confusion Delusion Illusion Mad Partition Peenetrablity Race Whole Dammed Wrap

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