William Golding Quotes

“His mind was crowded with memories; memories of the knowledge that had come to them when they closed in on the struggling pig, knowledge that they had outwitted a living thing, imposed their will upon it, taken away its life like a long satisfying drink.”

“There isn’t anyone to help you. Only me. And I’m the Beast. . . . Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! . . . You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you? Close, close, close! I’m the reason why it’s no go? Why things are the way they are?”

Roger gathered a handful of stones and began to throw them. Yet there was a space round Henry, perhaps six yards in diameter, into which he dare not throw. Here, invisible yet strong, was the taboo of the old life. Round the squatting child was the protection of parents and school and policemen and the law.

“There aren’t any grownups. We shall have to look after ourselves.”

“Which is better—to have rules and agree, or to hunt and kill?”

“Piggy and Ralph, under the threat of the sky found themselves eager to take a place in this demented but partly secure society. They were glad to touch the brown backs of the fence that hemmed in the terror and made it governable”

“Simon, walking in front of Ralph, felt a flicker of incredulity—a beast with claws that scratched, that sat on a mountain-top, that left no tracks and yet was not fast enough to catch Samneric. However Simon thought of the beast, there rose before his inward sight the picture of a human, at once heroic and sick.”

“What I mean is . . . maybe it’s only us”

“Grownups know things,” said Piggy. “They ain’t afraid of the dark. They’d meet and have tea and discuss. Then things ‘ud be all right-”

“Piggy moved among the crowd, asking names and frowning to remember them. The children gave him the same simple obedience that they had given to the man with the megaphones.”

“The world, that understandable and lawful world, was slipping away.”

“Life […] is scientific, that’s what it is. In a year or two when the war is over they’ll be traveling to Mars and back. I know there isn’t no beast—not with claws and all that I mean—but I know there isn’t no fear either. . . Unless we get frightened of people.”

Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill her blood.

“What are we? Humans? Or animals? Or savages? What’s grownups going to think?”

“Something deep in Ralph spoke for him. ‘I’m chief. I’ll go. Don’t argue.’ ”

“He capered toward Bill, and the mask was a thing on its own, behind which Jack hid, liberated from shame and self-consciousness.”

“They looked at each other, baffled, in love and hate.”

“We’ve got to have rules and obey them. After all, we’re not savages. We’re English, and the English are best at everything.”

“Ralph sat on a fallen trunk, his left side to the sun. On his right were most of the choir; on his left the larger boys who had not known each other before the evacuation; before him small children squatted in the grass.”

″‘Then we must go as we are,’ said Ralph, ‘and they won’t be any better.’ Eric made a detaining gesture. ‘But they’ll be painted! You know how it is.’ The others nodded. They understood only too well the liberation into savagery that the concealing paint brought. ”

“Ralph wept for the end of innocence, the darkness of man’s heart, and the fall through the air of a true, wise friend called Piggy.”

“The thing is – fear can’t hurt you any more than a dream.”

“Shut up,” said Ralph absently. He lifted the conch. “Seems to me we ought to have a chief to decide things.” “A chief! A chief!” “I ought to be chief,” said Jack with simple arrogance, “because I’m chapter chorister and head boy. I can sing C sharp.”

“Within the diamond haze of the beach something dark was fumbling along. Ralph saw it first, and watched until the intentness of his gaze drew all eyes that way. Then the creature stepped from mirage onto clear sand, and they saw that the darkness was not all shadow but mostly clothing. The creature was a party of boys”

“You’ve noticed, haven’t you?” Jack put down his spear and squatted. “Noticed what?” “Well. They’re frightened.” He rolled over and peered into Jack’s fierce, dirty face. “I mean the way things are. They dream. You can hear ‘em. Have you been awake at night?” Jack shook his head. “They talk and scream. The littluns. Even some of the others. As if—” “As if it wasn’t a good island.” Astonished at the interruption, they looked up at Simon’s serious face. “As if,” said Simon, “the beastie, the beastie or the snake-thing, was real. Remember?”