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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?

William Golding

I’ve come across a novel called The Palm-Wine Drinkard, by the Nigerian writer Amos Tutuola, that is really remarkable because it is a kind of fantasy of West African mythology all told in West African English which, of course, is not the same as standard English.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Call Come Cross Dimkard Kind Novel Palm Person Really Remarkable Wine Writer
Only one novel is a novel: that is a successful novel.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Novel One Only Successful
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.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Die Fall Fear Indeed Long Mind Price Sleep Welcome
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
Simon became inarticulate in his effort to express mankind’s essential illness.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Become Effort Essential Express Illness Inarticulate Mankind People
I am by nature an optimist and by intellectual conviction a pessimist.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Condition Intelectual Nature Optimist Pessimist
Every novel is a biography. Well, then, this is a novel [The Paper Men] which is a biography that is pretending to be an autobiography. That’s what you could say about it.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Appear Biography Emn Every Novel Pretend Well
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
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.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Crow Grade Hand Prejudice Same Shout Thing Thinker Warning
What kind of human person has a favorite eraser?
WILLIAM GOLDING

Eraser Favorite Human Kind Person
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.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Close Come Crowd Knowledge Memories Min Pig Struggling Them
I don’t think they [contemporary writers] read me either. I mean, if we’re concerned genuinely with writing, I think we probably get on with our work.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Concern Contemporary Either Genuinely Mean Read Think Write
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
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 began to write when I was seven, and I have been writing off and on ever since. It is still off and on. You can say that when I am on, when I know I have a book which I am going to write, then I write two thousand words a day. That’s so many pages longhand.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Been Began Ever Off Say Seven Since Still When Write You
Maybe there is a beast… maybe it’s only us.
WILLIAM GOLDING

Beast Maybe Only Us

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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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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