Quotessence
Home / Authors / William Faulkner Books
William Faulkner

William Faulkner Books

Writer

Light in August

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

FAULKNER READER

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

As I Lay Dying

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Go Down, Moses

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Soldiers' Pay

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

The Reivers

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

A Rose for Emily

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Mientras agonizo

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Mosquitoes

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Novels 1942-1954

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

The Mansion

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

A Fable

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Honor

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Knight's Gambit

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Pylon

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Sanctuary

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Soldier's Pay

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

The Hamlet

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

The Wild Palms

A source page for quotes linked to William Faulkner.

0 quotes

Related Quotes

“When the shadow of the sash appeared on the curtains it was between seven and eight oclock and then I was in time again, hearing the watch. It was Grandfather's and when father gave it to me he said I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire; it's rather excrutiating-ly apt that you will use it to gain the reducto absurdum of all of all human experience which can fit your individual needs no better than it fitted his and his father's. I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all your trying to conquer it. Because no battle is ever won he said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools.”

DesireTime
Book:The Sound And The Fury
Create image

“It wont be much longer now and then there wont be anything left; we wont even have anything to do left, not even the privilege of walking backward slowly for a reason, for the sake of honor and what’s left of pride. Not God; evidently we have done without Him for four years, only He just didn’t think to notify us; and not only not shoes and clothing but not even any need for them, and not only no land nor any way to make food, but no need for the food since we have learned to live without that too; and so if you dont have God and you dont need food and clothes and shelter, there isn’t anything for honor and pride to climb on and hold to and flourish. And if you haven’t got honor and pride, then nothing matters. Only there is something in you that doesn’t care about honor and pride yet that lives, that even walks backward for a whole year just to live; that probably even when this is over and there is not even defeat left, will still decline to sit still in the sun and die, but will be out in the woods, moving and seeking where just will and endurance could not move it, grabbing for roots and such – the old mindless sentient undreaming meat that doesn’t even know any difference between despair and victory.”

PrideHonorDespairHopelessness
Book:Absalom, Absalom!
Create image

“And that's all. That's it. The courage, the recklessness, call it what you will, is the flash, the instant of sublimation; then flick! the old darkness again. That's why. It's too strong for steady diet. And if it were a steady diet, it would not be a flash, a glare. And so, being momentary, it can be preserved and prolonged only on paper: a picture, a few written words that any match, a minute and harmless flame that any child can engender, can obliterate in an instant. A one-inch sliver of sulphur-tipped wood is longer than memory or grief; a flame no larger than a sixpence is fiercer than courage or despair.”

GriefCourageDespairMemory
Author:William Faulkner
Create image

“You have heard---or anyway you will---people talk about evil times or an evil generation. There are no such things. No epoch of history nor generation of human beings either ever was or is or will be big enough to hold the unvirtue of any given moment, anymore than they could contain all the air of any given moment; all they can do is hope to be as little soiled as possible during their passage through it.”

HumanityEvilSocietyGood And EvilMalevolence
Book:The Reivers
Create image

“I mind how I said to you once that there is a price for being good the same as for being bad; a cost to pay. And it's the good men that cant deny the bill when it comes around. They cant deny it for the reason that there aint any way to make them pay it, like a honest man that gambles. The bad men can deny it; that's why dont anybody expect them to pay on sight or any other time. But the good cant. Maybe it takes longer to pay for being good than for being bad.”

GoodnessGoodPrice
Book:Light in August
Create image

“When I was fifteen, a companion and I, on a dare, went into the mound one day just at sunset. We saw some of those Indians for the first time; we got directions from them and reached the top of the mound just as the sun set. We had camping equiptment with us, but we made no fire. We didn't even make down our beds. We just sat side by side on that mound until it became light enough to find our way back to the road. We didn't talk. When we looked at each other in the gray dawn, our faces were gray, too, quiet, very grave. When we reached town again, we didn't talk either. We just parted and went home and went to bed. That's what we thought, felt, about the mound. We were children, it is true, yet we were descendants of people who read books and who were, or should have been, beyond superstition and impervious to mindless fear.”

FearSuperstitionNative AmericansIndiansEarthworksMound
Book:Collected Stories of William Faulkner
Create image

“...there is the fable, Chinese I think, literary I am sure: of a period on earth when the dominant creatures were cats: who after ages of trying to cope with the anguishes of mortality---famine, plague, war, injustice, folly, greed---in a word, civilized government---convened a congress of the wisest cat philosophers to see if anything could be done: who after long deliberation agreed that the dilemma, the problems themselves were insoluble and the only practical solution was to give it up, relinquish, abdicate, by selecting from among the lesser creatures a species, race optimistic enough to believe that the mortal predicament could be solved and ignorant enough never to learn better. Which is why the cat lives with you, is completely dependent on you for food and shelter but lifts no paw for you and loves you not; in a word, why your cat looks at you the way it does.”

MythologyCatsFelinesDomestication
Book:The Reivers
Create image

“Now and then a fellow gets to thinking about it. Not often, though. Which is a good thing. For the Lord aimed for him to do and not to spend too much time thinking, because his brain is like a piece of machinery: it wont stand a whole lot of racking. It's best when it all runs along the same, doing the day's work and not no one part used more than needful. I have said and I say again, that's ever living thing the matter with Darl: he just thinks by himself too much. Cora's right when she says all he needs is a wife to straighten him out. And when I think about that, I think that if nothing but being married will help a man, he's durn nigh hopeless. But I reckon Cora's right when she says the reason the Lord had to create women is because man dont know his own good when he sees it.”

ThinkingMenWomen
Book:As I Lay Dying
Create image

“But some of the machinery would be left, since new pieces could always be bought on the instalment plan - gaunt, staring motionless wheels rising from the mounds of brick rubble and ragged weeds with a quality profoundly astonishing, and gutted boilers lifting their rusting and unsmoking stacks with an air stubborn, baffled and bemused upon a stumppocked scene of profound and peaceful desolation, unplowed, untilled, gutting slowly into red and choked ravines beneath the long quiet rains of autumn and the galloping fury of vernal equinoxes.”

NatureBeautyDesolationAmerican SouthDeindustrialisation
Book:Light in August
Create image

“And we’d sit in the dry leaves that whispered a little with the slow respiration of our waiting and with the slow breathing of the earth and the windless October, the rank smell of the lantern fouling the brittle air, listening to the dogs and to the echo of Louis’s voice dying away. He never raised it, yet on a still night we have heard it from our front porch. When he called the dogs in he sounded just like the horn he carried slung over his shoulder and never used, but clearer, mellower, as though his voice were a part of darkness and silence, coiling out of it, coiling into it again. WhoOoooo. WhoOoooo. WhoOooooooooooooooo.”

NostalgiaAutumnHauntingSouthern GothicFaulkner
Author:William Faulkner
Create image