When grown people speak of the innocence of children, they don’t really know what they mean. Pressed, they will go a step further and say, Well, ignorance then. The child is neither. There is no crime which a boy of eleven had not envisaged long ago. His only innocence is, he may not be old enough to desire the fruits of it, which is not innocence but appetite; his ignorance is, he does not know how to commit it, which is not ignorance but size.

The Reivers (1962)

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More from William Faulkner

He had a word, too. Love, he called it. But I had been used to words for a long time. I knew that that word was like the others: just a shape to fill a lack; that when the right time came, you wouldn’t need a word for that anymore than for pride or fear.

As I Lay Dying (1930)

Women do have an affinity for evil, for believing that no woman is to be trusted, but that some men are too innocent to protect themselves.

The Sound and the Fury (1929)

Clocks slay time. Time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life.

The Sound and the Fury (1929)

A man is the sum of his misfortunes. One day you’d think misfortune would get tired, but then time is your misfortune.

The Sound and the Fury (1929)

Well, between Scotch and nothin’, I suppose I’d take Scotch. It’s the nearest thing to good moonshine I can find.

As quoted in National Observer (3 February 1964)