Don Conroy was larger than life and there was never a room he entered that he left without making his mark. At some point in his life, he passed from… - Pat Conroy

[...] I learned from those evening recitals that music could ache and hurt, that beautiful music was a place a suffering man could hide.

In families, there are no crimes beyond forgiveness.

How could a man I had dreaded as my commandant and who tried twice to get me kicked out of college become the subject of the first book I would write? How could the young kid I was then become one of the closest friends The Boo would ever make? Who could have predicted that The Boo would be hired as the mighty advisor for the filming of The Lords of Discipline in England? After his long humiliation and exile by The Citadel, who would have predicted that he and I would both be honored by a full-dress parade and honorary degrees as we stood shoulder-to-shoulder on the same parade ground we had marched on as boys? Who could have foreseen the day I would deliver his eulogy at the Summerall Chapel, or that I would give a speech on the night they named the dining room in the new Alumni Hall after him? Not me. Not once. Not ever.