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I do think that art that doesn’t communicate is useless.

William Golding

There’s a kinship among men who have sat by a dying fire and measured the worth of their life by it.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Among Dry Kinship Life Measure Men Sat Worth
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
We’ve got to have rules and obey them. After all, we’re not savages. We’re English, and the English are best at everything.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Best English Everything Obey Rule Savage Them
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
Which is better — to be a pack of painted Indians like you are, or to be sensible like Ralph is? Which is better — to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill? Which is better, law and rescue, or hunting and breaking things up?
WILLIAM GOLDING

Better Country Like Pach Paint People Sensible
Percival was mouse-coloured and had not been very attractive even to his mother.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Attractive Beem Cloured Even Mother Mouse Percival Very
The beast was harmless and horrible; and the news must reach the others as soon as possible.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Beast Harmless Horrible Must News Other Possible Reach Soon
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 GOLDING

Cover Development Eject Foetus Freak Made Man Natural Rob Tell Will World
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.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Book Else Everything Follow Grasp Great Nobody Own Seven Thirty Truth Until
If I blow the conch and they don’t come back; then we’ve had it. We shan’t keep the fire going. We’ll be like animals. We’ll never be rescued.” “If you don’t blow, we’ll soon be animals anyway.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Blow Come Back Conch
In India the odd thing is that English is this almost artificial language floating on the surface of a place with about fifty other languages. The same is true of Nigeria but even more so.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Almost Artificial Country English Fifty Float Language Odd Other Place Surface Thing
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.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Absorb Become Beyond Control Describe Excercise Felt Happiness Himself Living Thing
It may be — I hope it is — redemption to guess and perhaps perceive that the universe, the hell which we see for all its beauty, vastness, majesty, is only part of a whole which is quite unimaginable.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Beauty Guess Hell Hope Majesty May Perhaps Redemption See Universe Vastness
My yesterdays walk with me. They keep step, they are gray faces that peer over my shoulder.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Face Gray Keep Over Peer Shoulder Step Walk Yesterday
The water rose further and dressed Simon’s coarse hair with brightness. The line of his cheek silvered and the turn of his shoulder became sculptured marble.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Brightness Celebrity Dress Further Hair People Person Rose Water
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.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Book Forget Immediately Know Meant Probably Writer Written Wrote

I do think that art that doesn’t communicate is useless.

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I do think that art that doesn’t communicate is useless.

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Popular Authors

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