There is a great tendency today to want everybody to write just the way everybody else does, to see and to show the same things in the same way to the same middling audience. But the writer, in order best to use the talents he has been given, has to write at his own intellectual level. For him to do anything else is to bury his talents. This doesn't mean that, within his limitations, he shouldn't try to reach as many people as possible, but it does mean that he must not lower his standards to do so. . Flannery OConnor
Remember: the time you feel lonely is the time you most need to be by yourself. Life's cruelest irony.
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Douglas Coupland
The sense of tragedy - according to Aristotle - comes, ironically enough, not from the protagonist's weak points but from his good qualities. Do you know what I'm getting at? People are drawn deeper into tragedy not by their defects but by their virtues....[ But]...
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Haruki Murakami
The irony of life is that those who wear masks often tell us more truths than those with open faces.
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Marie Lu
Thank heaven for people who are satisfied with facts that conform to the reality they wish to believe.
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Gary Inbinder
Even things that are true can be proved.
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Oscar Wilde
More Quotes By Flannery OConnor
Dear Mrs Chiley, " said Lucilla, "it doesn't matter in the least what you wear; there are only to be gentlemen, you, know, and one never dresses for gentlemen. (...) Their vanity is something dreadful-but it is one of my principles never to dress unless...
As Sandy and his wife warmed to the tale, one tripping up another in their eagerness to tell everything, it gradually developed as distinct a superstition as I ever heard, and not without poetry and pathos. How long it was since the voice had been...
He was highly spoken of, everybody knew; but nobody knew who had spoken highly of him…
The village lay in the hollow, and climbed, with very prosaic houses, the other side. Village architecture does not flourish in Scotland. The blue slates and the grey stone are sworn foes to the picturesque; and though I do not, for my own part, dislike...
It was getting dark by the time I went out, and nobody who knows the country will need to be told how black is the darkness of a November night under high laurel bushes and yew-trees. I walked into the heart of the shrubberies two...
