William Faulkner
William Faulkner
William Cuthbert Faulknerwas an American writer and Nobel Prize laureate from Oxford, Mississippi. Faulkner wrote novels, short stories, a play, poetry, essays, and screenplays. He is primarily known for his novels and short stories set in the fictional Yoknapatawpha County, based on Lafayette County, Mississippi, where he spent most of his life...
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth25 September 1897
CityNew Albany, MS
book literature nobel
It wasn't until the Nobel Prize that they really thawed out. They couldn't understand my books, but they could understand $30,000.
book blind immortality
...if there was anything at all in the Book, anything of hope and peace for His blind and bewildered spawn which He had chosen above all others to offer immortality, THOU SHALT NOT KILL must be it...
book profound turns
...how false the most profound book turns out to be when applied to life.
book men thinking
...thinking as he had thought before and would think again and as every other man has thought: how false the most profound book turns out to be when applied to life.
book dark two
When I was little there was a picture in one of our books, a dark place into which a single weak ray of light came slanting upon two faces lifted out of the shadow.
book should died
What a writer's obituary should read - he wrote the books, then he died.
book
Perhaps they were right putting love into books. Perhaps it could not live anywhere else.
book burning pouring
Pouring out liquor is like burning books.
book men old-friends
The books I read are the ones I knew and loved when I was a young man and to which I return as you do to old friends.
book pride honor
Everything goes by the board: honor, pride, decency to get the book written.
book reading men
I learned little save that most of the deeds, good and bad both, incurring opprobrium or plaudits or reward either, within the scope of man's abilities, had already been performed and were to be learned about only from books.
anguished bad book deliberate failed force four grew mother moved none printed reason relinquish start tenderness throw time tour trying wrote
And that's how the book grew. That is, I wrote that same story four times. None of them were right, but I had anguished so much that I could not throw any of it away and start over, so I printed it in the four sections. That was not a deliberate tour de force at all, the book just grew that way. That I was still trying to tell one story which moved me very much and each time I failed, but I had put so much anguish into it that I couldn't throw it away, like the mother that had four bad children, that she would have been better off if they all had been eliminated, But she couldn't relinquish any of them. And that's the reason I have the most tenderness for that book, because it failed four times.