Man is conceived in sin and born in corruption and he passeth from the stink of the didie to the stench of the shroud. There is always something
(All The King's Men)
Tag: humor philosophy novel pulitzer-prize
The end of man is knowledge, but there is one thing he can't know.
Robert Penn WarrenThe end of man is knowledge, but there is one thing he can't know. He can't know whether knowledge will save him or kill him. He will be killed, all right, but he can't know whether he is killed because of the knowledge which he has got or because of the knowledge which he hasn't got and which if he had it, would save him.
Robert Penn WarrenThe creation of man whom God in his foreknowledge knew doomed to sin was the awful index of God's omnipotence. For it would have been a thing of trifling and contemptible ease for Perfection to create mere perfection. To do so would, to speak truth, be not creation but extension. Separateness is identity and the only way for God to create, truly create, man was to make him separate from God Himself, and to be separate from God is to be sinful. The creation of evil is therefore the index of God's glory and His power. That had to be so that the creation of good might be the index of man's glory and power. But by God's help. By His help and in His wisdom.
Robert Penn WarrenStorytelling and copulation are the two chief forms of amusement in the South. They’re inexpensive and easy to procure.
Robert Penn WarrenThe poem is a little myth of man's capacity of making life meaningful.
Robert Penn WarrenTag: poetry
Real writers are those who want to write, need to write, have to write.
Robert Penn WarrenTag: writing
I turned around to face the reality, which was not something caught in the ice of the mind but was something now flushed, feline, lethal, and electric...
Robert Penn WarrenHow life is strange and changeful, and the crystal is in the steel at the point of fracture, and the toad bears a jewel in its forehead, and the meaning of moments passes like the breeze that scarcely ruffles the leaf of the willow.
Robert Penn WarrenTag: life
Then after a long time Annie wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was a big girl and I was so much in love with her that I lived in a dream. In the dream my heart seemed to be ready to burst, for it seemed that the whole world was inside it swelling to get out and be the world. But that summer came to an end. Time passed and nothing happened that we had felt so certain at one time would happen.
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