The air brightened, the running shadow patches were now the obverse, and it seemed to him that the fact that the day was clearing was another cunning stroke on the part of the foe, the fresh battle toward which he was carrying ancient wounds.
William Faulknerthe problems of the human heart in conflict with itself which alone can make good writing because only that is worth writing about, worth the agony and the sweat
William FaulknerThey all talked at once, their voices insistent and contradictory and impatient, making of unreality a possibility, then a probability, then an incontrovertible fact, as people will when their desires become words.
William Faulkner