"The past is never dead. It's not even past."

That's my excuse for being just a bit belated with this birthday post for William Faulkner, whose birthday was back on the 25th. I haven't really missed it, you see.

It was reading and trying to write about this guy's books that made me think, rightly or wrongly, that I might have some sort of future as an academic of some sort; the least I can do by way of thanks is post something 4 days after his birthday and quote him to boot.

That little postage-stamp of native soil of yours is (still) the richest plot of land American literature has yet taken root in. Thank you, sir.

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William Faulkner