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"Comely was the town by the curving river that they dismantled in a year's time. Beautiful was Colleton in her last spring as she flung azaleas like a girl throwing rice at a desperate wedding. In dazzling profusion, Colleton ripened in a gauze of sweet gardens and the town ached beneath a canopy of promissory fragrance."
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Exlpore more Success quotes
"In the pursuit of goals, you cannot give up anytime you feel uncomfortable."
"You will reap tomorrow what you are sowing today."
"Consistency is the belt that fastens excellence in position. If you don't do it repeatedly, you'll not excel in it."
"Every big castle was once started with a single block, despise no small beginnings. A little step taken every day builds up the hope of greater accomplishments. Do something every day!"
Explore more quotes by Pat Conroy
"It would always be my burden, not that I lacked genius, but that I was fully aware of it."
"Though I've never met a teacher who was not happy in retirement, I rarely meet one who thinks that their teaching life was not a grand way to spend a human life. The unhappy ones are the young ones, those who must teach in public schools when the whole nation seems at war with the very essence of teaching."
"I had declared in public my desire to be a writer ... I wanted to develop a curiosity that was oceanic and insatiable as well as a desire to learn and use every word in the English language that didn't sound pretentious or ditzy."
"The body's a funny thing. It's so full of surprises that it makes conventional wisdom seem silly."
"It's politics . . . It makes everybody stupid. When you grow up, you'll know what I mean."
"A woman in Charlotte approached me and said that she's tired of the dysfunction in my novels. I told her I was sorry, but that is how the world has presented itself to me throughout my life."
"It was growing dark on this long southern evening, and suddenly, at the exact point her finger had indicated, the moon lifted a forehead of stunning gold above the horizon, lifted straight out of filigreed, light-intoxicated clouds that lay on the skyline in attendant veils. Behind us, the sun was setting in a simultaneous congruent withdrawal and the river turned to flame in a quiet duel of gold....The new gold of moon astonishing and ascendant, he depleted gold of sunset extinguishing itself in the long westward slide, it was the old dance of days in the Carolina marshes, the breathtaking death of days before the eyes of children, until the sun vanished, its final signature a ribbon of bullion strung across the tops of water oaks."
"The writing of novels is one of the few ways I have found to approach the altar of God and Creation itself. You try to worship God by performing the singularly courageous and impossible favor of knowing yourself."
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