William Faulkner

1897 - 1962

A Quote by William Faulkner on despair, fighting, illusions, and victory

. . . no battle is ever won . . . 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.

William Faulkner (1897 - 1962)

Source: The Sound and the Fury

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by William Faulkner on understanding

"Gettysburg. . . . You cant understand it. You would have to be born there."

William Faulkner (1897 - 1962)

Source: Absalom, Absalom!

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by William Faulkner on darkness and thought

"Why do you hate the South? I dont hate it. . . . I dont hate it. . . . I dont hate it he thought, panting in the cold air, the iron New England dark; I dont. I dont! I dont hate it! I dont hate it! "

William Faulkner (1897 - 1962)

Source: Absalom, Absalom!

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by William Faulkner

Too much happens. . . . Man performs, engenders, so much more than he can or should have to bear. That's how he finds that he can bear anything. . . . That's what's so terrible.

William Faulkner (1897 - 1962)

Source: Light in August

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by William Faulkner on belief

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I believe that man not merely endure: he will prevail.

William Faulkner (1897 - 1962)

Source: the Speech receiving the Nobel Prize for literature, Stockholm, 12/10/50

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by William Faulkner on regret

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Tomorrow night is nothing but one long sleepless wrestle with yesterday's omissions and regrets.

William Faulkner (1897 - 1962)

Source: Intruder in the Dust

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by William Faulkner on colors, equality, life, and world

To live anywhere in the world today and be against equality because of race or color, is like living in Alaska and being against snow.

William Faulkner (1897 - 1962)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by William Faulkner on aim, art, and life

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The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means and hold it fixed so that a hundred years later, when a stranger looks at it, it moves again since it is life.

William Faulkner (1897 - 1962)

Contributed by: Zaady

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