William Faulkner Quotes
Who is he who will affirm that there must be a web of flesh and bone to hold the shape of love?
Quotes to Explore
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A nation does not create the historians it deserves; the historians are far more likely to create the nation.
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A friend of mine says that perfection is a road, not a destination.
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We knew we were going to be short-handed, being that Chris wasn't playing, and other guys stepped up and played big for us.
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Wherever technology reaches its real fulfillment, it transcends into architecture.
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All of that is constantly operating when you not only learn, but when you recall. But as you recall in a different light, the weights with which something is more probably going to be or not recalled on the next instance, are going to be changed. So you're constantly changing the way, for instance, synapses are going to fire very easily or not so easily.
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The trouble with the average person is that he doesn't trust himself sufficiently to create and deliver ideas.
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The players had bad personal relations, and that's what led to this shameful end. My mistake was not throwing five to six of them off the team. They don't even talk with each other, everyone only looks after his own interest. I've never seen such people before.
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Without God, all of our efforts turn to ashes and our sunrise into the darkest of nights.
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To middle-class parents, the project team may have seemed unfit for children, but it was exactly what I needed.
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On no other ground Can I sow my seed Without tearing up Some stinking weed.
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When I say what I'm reading, this is what I need. I know the ills that plague me.
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Although we are all different, we all respond to each other's suggestions of perfection. And we enjoy the same response as the artist. It is the inner contemplation, the wanting to respond to life, that opens our eyes to what is already in the mind.
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I was aware that on my skill as a painter would depend the physical and moral possession of the model.
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All night I have suffered; all night my flesh has trembled to bring forth its gift. The sweat of death is on my forehead; but it is not death, it is life!
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Alas, what wickedness to swallow flesh into our own flesh, to fatten our greedy bodies by cramming in other bodies, to have one living creature fed by the death of another!
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To be a teacher does not mean simply to affirm that such a thing is so, or to deliver a lecture, etc.
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Who is he who will affirm that there must be a web of flesh and bone to hold the shape of love?
