I will tell you what man is. He is a freak, an ejected foetus robbed of his natural development, thrown out into the world with a naked covering of parchment, with too little room for his teeth and a soft bulging skull like a bubble. But nature stirs a pudding there.
WILLIAM GOLDINGWhich is better–to have laws and agree, or to hunt and kill?
More William Golding Quotes
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He doesn’t mind if he dies… indeed, he would like to die; but yet he fears to fall. He would welcome a long sleep; but not at the price of falling to it.
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If faces were different when lit from above or below — what was a face? What was anything?
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Percival was mouse-coloured and had not been very attractive even to his mother.
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The Navy’s a very gentlemanly business. You fire at the horizon to sink a ship and then you pull people out of the water and say, ‘Frightfully sorry, old chap.’
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The writer probably knows what he meant when he wrote a book, but he should immediately forget what he meant when he’s written it.
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We did everything adults would do. What went wrong?
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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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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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One’s intelligence may march about and about a problem, but the solution does not come gradually into view. One moment it is not. The next it is there.
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We just got to go on, that’s all. That’s what grownups would do.
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Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart, and the fall through the air of the true, wise friend called Piggy.
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You’ll get back to where you came from.
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His mind was crowded with memories; memories of the knowledge that had come to them when they closed in on the struggling pig, knowledge that they had outwitted a living thing, imposed their will upon it, taken away its life like a long satisfying drink.
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However you disguise novels, they are always biographies.
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the conch exploded into a thousand white fragments and ceased to exist.
WILLIAM GOLDING