Best 84 of William Styron quotes - MyQuotes

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William Styron
By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

When, in the autumn of 1947, I was fired from the first and only job I have ever held, I wanted one thing out of life: to become a writer.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

The madness of depression is, generally speaking, the antithesis of violence. It is a storm indeed, but a storm of murk. Soon evident are the slowed-down responses, near paralysis, psychic energy throttled back close to zero. Ultimately, the body is affected and feels sapped, drained.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

Most books, like their authors, are born to die; of only a few books can it be said that death has no dominion over them; they live, and their influence lives forever.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

Through the healing process of time-and through medical intervention or hospitalization in many cases-most people survive depression which may be its only blessing; but to the tragic legion who are compelled to destroy themselves there should be no more reproof attached than to the victims of terminal cancer.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

I felt the exultancy of a man just released from slavery and ready to set the universe on fire.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

The good writing of any age has always been the product of someone's neurosis.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

What I really mean is that a great book should leave you with many experiences, and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading it.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

This was not judgment day - only morning. Morning: excellent and fair.

By Anonym 18 Sep

William Styron

On Major Depression, quoted by the great William Styron of Sophie's Choice & Darkness Visible: From Darkness Visible, William Styron "It is a positive and active anguish, a sort of psychical neuralgia, wholly unknown to normal life.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

And when you get an eminent journal like Time magazine complaining, as it often has, that to the young writers of today life seems short on rewards and that what they write is a product of their own neuroses, in its silly way the magazine is merely stating the status quo and obvious truth. The good writing of any age has always been the product of someone's neurosis, and we'd have a mighty dull literature if all the writers that came along were a bunch of happy chuckleheads.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

I have learned to cry again and I think perhaps that means I am a human being again. Perhaps that at least. A piece of human being but, yes, a human being.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

Further, Dr. Gold said with a straight face, the pill at optimum dosage could have the side effect of impotence. Until that moment, although I'd had some trouble with his personality, I had not thought him totally lacking in perspicacity; now I was not all sure. Putting myself in Dr. Gold's shoes, I wondered if he seriously thought that this juiceless and ravaged semi-invalid with the shuffle and the ancient wheeze woke up each morning from his Halcion sleep eager for carnal fun.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

It's fine therapy for people who are perpetually scared of nameless threats as I am most of the time — for jittery people.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

The stigma of self-inflicted death is for some people a hateful blot that demands erasure at all costs.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

The pain of depression is quite unimaginable to those who have not suffered it, and it kills in many instances because its anguish can no longer be borne. The prevention of many suicides will continue to be hindered until there is a general awareness of the nature of this pain.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

Many of the artifacts of my house had become potential devices for my own destruction: the attic rafters (and an outside maple or two) a means to hang myself, the garage a place to inhale carbon monoxide, the bathtub a vessel to receive the flow from my opened arteries. The kitchen knives in their drawers had but one purpose for me.

By Anonym 16 Sep

William Styron

For those who have dwelt in depression's dark wood, and known its inexplicable agony, their return from the abyss is not unlike the ascent of the poet, trudging upward and upward out of hell's black depths and at last emerging into what he saw as "the shining world." There, whoever has been restored to health has almost always been restored to the capacity for serenity and joy, and this may be indemnity enough for having endured the despair beyond despair. E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle. And so we came forth, and once again beheld the stars.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

In Paris on a chilling evening late in October of 1985 I first became fully aware that the struggle with the disorder in my mind - a struggle which had engaged me for several months - might have a fatal outcome.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

I thought there's something to be said for honor in this world where there doesn't seem to be any honor left. I thought that maybe happiness wasn't really anything more than the knowledge of a life well spent, in spite of whatever immediate discomfort you had to undergo, and that if a life well spent meant compromises and conciliations and reconciliations, and suffering at the hands of the person you love, well then better that than live without honor.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

In Vineyard Haven, on Martha's Vineyard, mostly I love the soft collision here of harbor and shore, the subtly haunting briny quality that all small towns have when they are situated on the sea

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

Let your love flow out on all living things.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

I think that the best of my generation...have reversed the customary rules of the game and have grown more radical as they have gotten older - a disconcerting but healthy sign. To be sure, there are many youngish old fogies around and even the most illustrious of these, William Buckley, is blessed by a puzzling, recondite but undeniable charm, almost as if beneath that patrician exterior an egalitarian was signaling to get out.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

We would have to settle for the elegant goal of becoming ourselves.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

What this country needs... what this great land of ours needs is something to happen to it. Something ferocious and tragic, like what happened to Jericho or the cities of the plain - something terrible I mean, son, so that when the people have been through hellfire and the crucible, and have suffered agony enough and grief, they’ll be people again, human beings, not a bunch of smug contented cows rooting at the trough.

By Anonym 19 Sep

William Styron

There he must, despite the anguish devouring his brain, present a face approximating the one that is associated with ordinary events and companionship. He must try to utter small talk, and be responsive to questions, and knowingly nod and frown and, God help him, even smile. But it is a fierce trial attempting to speak a few simple words.

By Anonym 16 Sep

William Styron

It was true that I had traveled great distances for one so young, but my spirit had remained landlocked, unacquainted with love and all but a stranger to death…I had absented myself in my smug and airless self-deprivation.

By Anonym 16 Sep

William Styron

In De Rerum Natura, Lucretius pointed out a very central truth concerning the examined life. That is, that the man of science who concerns himself solely with science, who cannot enjoy and be enriched by art, is a misshapen man. An incomplete man.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

I felt myself no longer a husk but a body with some of the body's sweet juices stirring again. I had my first dream in many months, confused but to this day imperishable, with a flute in it somewhere, and a wild goose, and a dancing girl.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

I try to get a feeling of what's going on in the story before I put it down on paper, but actually most of this breaking-in period is one long, fantastic daydream, in which I think about anything but the work at hand. I can't turn out slews of stuff each day. I wish I could. I seem to have some neurotic need to perfect each paragraph—each sentence, even—as I go along.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

For a person whose sole burning ambition is to write - like myself - college is useless beyond the Sophomore year.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

I felt a kind of numbness, an enervation, but more particularly an odd fragility - as if my body had actually become frail, hypersensitive and somehow disjointed and clumsy, lacking normal coordination. And soon I was in the throes of a pervasive hypochondria.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

Writers ever since writing began have had problems, and the main problem narrows down to just one word - life.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

The weather of Depression is unmodulated, its light a brownout.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

My life and work have been far from free of blemish, and so I think it would be unpardonable for a biographer not to dish up the dirt.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

Nonfiction writers are second-class citizens, the Ellis Island of literature. We just can't quite get in. And yes, it pisses me off.

By Anonym 20 Sep

William Styron

While I was able to rise and function almost normally during the earlier part of the day, I began to sense the onset of the symptoms at midafternoon or a little later- -gloom crowding in on me, a sense of dread and alienation and, above all, stifling anxiety.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

Mysteriously and in ways that are totally remote from natural experience, the gray drizzle of horror induced by depression takes on the quality of physical pain.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

my brain had begun to endure its familiar siege: panic and dislocation, and a sense that my thought processes were being engulfed by a toxic and unnameable tide that obliterated any enjoyable response to the living world.

By Anonym 16 Sep

William Styron

It was not really alarming at first, since the change was subtle, but I did notice that my surroundings took on a different tone at certain times: the shadows of nightfall seemed more somber, my mornings were less buoyant, walks in the woods became less zestful, and there was a moment during my working hours in the late afternoon when a kind of panic and anxiety overtook me, just for a few minutes, accompanied by a visceral queasiness.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

Style comes only have long, hard practice and writing.

By Anonym 16 Sep

William Styron

E quindi uscimmo a riveder le stelle. And so we came forth, and once again beheld the stars.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

Like Hemingway and Faulkner, but in an entirely different mode, Fitzgerald had that singular quality without which a writer is not really a writer at all, and that is a voice, a distinct and identifiable voice. This is really not the same thing as a style; a style can be emulated, a voice cannot, and the witty, rueful, elegaic voice gives his work its bright authenticity.

By Anonym 15 Sep

William Styron

Depression is a disorder of mood, so mysteriously painful and elusive in the way it becomes known to the self--to the mediating intellect--as to verge close to being beyond description. It thus remains nearly incomprehensible to those who have not experienced it in its extreme mode, although the gloom, "the blues" which people go through occasionally and associate with the general hassle of everyday existence are of such prevalence that they do give many individuals a hint of the illness in its catastrophic form.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

A disruption of the circadian cycle—the metabolic and glandular rhythms that are central to our workaday life—seems to be involved in many, if not most, cases of depression; this is why brutal insomnia so often occurs and is most likely why each day’s pattern of distress exhibits fairly predictable alternating periods of intensity and relief.

By Anonym 16 Sep

William Styron

Someday I will understand Auschwitz. This was a brave statement but innocently absurd. No one will ever understand Auschwitz. What I might have set down with more accuracy would have been: Someday I will write about Sophie's life and death, and thereby help demonstrate how absolute evil is never extinguished from the world. Auschwitz itself remains inexplicable. The most profound statement yet made about Auschwitz was not a statement at all, but a response. The query: "At Auschwitz, tell me, where was God?" And the answer: "Where was man?

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

The good writing of any age has always been the product of someone's neurosis, and we'd have a mighty dull literature if all the writers that came along were a bunch of happy chuckleheads.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

I think it's unfortunate to have critics for friends.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

Reading - the best state yet to keep absolute loneliness at bay.

By Anonym 13 Sep

William Styron

Depression...so mysteriously painful and elusive.

By Anonym 14 Sep

William Styron

I think that one of the compelling themes of fiction is this confrontation between good and evil.