|
25e2cd6
|
White: Well you surprise me. And you've come to what conclusions? Black: I aint. I'm still thinkin. White: Yes. Well, I'm not. Black: Things can change. White: No they cant. Black: You could be wrong. White: I dont think so. Black: But that aint somethin you have a lot of in your life. White: What isnt? Black: Being wrong. White: I admit it when I'm wrong. Black: I dont think so. White: Well, you're entitled to your opinion.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
96cd1f0
|
Black: So how come they cant be your brothers in despair and selfdestruction? I thought misery loved company? White: I'm sure I don't know. Black: Well let me take a shot at it. White: Be my guest. Black: What I think is that you got better reasons then them. I mean, their reasons is just that they dont like it here, but yours says what they is not to like and why not to like it. You got more intelligent reasons. More elegant reasons.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
b10c421
|
Black: If this aint the life you had in mind, what was? White: I dont know. Not this. Is your life the one you'd planned? Black: No, it aint. I got what I needed instead of what I wanted and that's just about the best kind of luck you can have.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
aaf3f16
|
Well, I think the questioner wants the truth. The doubter wants to be told there aint no such thing.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
aba995e
|
The soul might be silent but the servant of the soul has always got a voice and it has got one for a reason.
|
|
silence
voice-of-the-soul
voice
soul
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
575ec45
|
Best way to live in California is to be from somewheres else. Probably the best way is to be from Mars.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
f8c8291
|
You can be patriotic and still believe that some things cost more than what they're worth.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
fe68e03
|
What's the bravest thing you ever did? Getting up this morning, he said.
|
|
bravery
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
f644868
|
Sometimes you have a little problem and you dont fix it and then all of a sudden it aint a little problem anymore.
|
|
problems
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
2e95ab2
|
Where do we go when we die? he said. - I don't know, the man said. Where are we now?
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
85fc933
|
The truth about the world, he said, is that anything is possible. Had you not seen it all from birth and thereby bled it of its strangeness it would appear to you for what it is, a hat trick in a medicine show, a fevered dream, a trance bepopulate with chimeras having neither analogue nor precedent, an itinerant carnival, a migratory tentshow whose ultimate destination after many a pitch in many a mudded field is unspeakable and calamitous ..
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
f6f53d8
|
There's too much shit still down the road that I got to deal with. It aint goin to end here.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
666e994
|
She looked away. You make it like it was the coin. But you're the one. It could have gone either way. The coin didn't have no say. It was just you. Perhaps. But look at it my way. I got here the same way the coin did.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
c7250cf
|
We'll just take it one step at a time. Okay. Don't let go. Okay. No matter what. No matter what.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
84fb212
|
Females of domestic reputation lounged upon the balconies they passed with faces gotten up in indigo and almagre gaudy as the rumps of apes and they peered from behind their fans with a kind of lurid coyness like transvestites in a madhouse.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
12ec08b
|
They went on in the perfect blackness, sightless as the blind.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
5d323a4
|
The boy was sitting quietly on the bunk, still wrapped in the blanket, watching. The man thought he had probably not fully committed himself to any of this. You could wake in the dark wet woods at any time.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
f99c209
|
Tell us where the world went.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
b79daa6
|
They say that women dream of danger to those in their care and men of danger to themselves. But I dont dream at all.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
f98b2b5
|
But nothing is crueler than a coward, and the slaughter to come is probably beyond our imagining.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
4827c10
|
They stood on the far shore of a river and called to him. Tattered gods slouching in their rags across the waste. Trekking the dried floor of a mineral sea where it lay cracked and broken like a fallen plate. Paths of feral fire in the coagulate sands. The figures faded in the distance. He woke and lay in the dark.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
7d70fe1
|
Do you think I lie to you? No. But you think I might lie to you about dying. Yes. Okay. I might. But we're not dying. Okay.
|
|
lies
life
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
ccb7554
|
I knew that courage came with less struggle for some than for others but I believed that anyone who desired it could have it.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
298845d
|
The nights now only slightly less black. By day the banished sun circles the earth like a grieving mother with a lamp.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
cc69fe1
|
Looking over the country with those sunken eyes as if the world out there had been altered or made suspect by what he'd seen of it elsewhere. As if he might never see it right again. Or worse did see it right at last. See it as it had always been, would forever be.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
7ff9524
|
To make the world. To make it again and again. To make it in the very maelstrom of its undoing.
|
|
craft
creation
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
a5837dd
|
Khorata vse se gotvekha za utreshniia den. Az ne viarvakh v tova. Utreshniiat den ne se gotveshe za tiakh. Toi dori ne znaeshe, che te sa tam.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
09e4572
|
tdhkr fqT 'n l'shy lty tD`h fy r'sk stbq~ fyh l~ l'bd
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
9a1069c
|
People complain about the bad things that happen to em that they don't deserve but they seldom mention the good. About what they done to deserve them things. I don't recall that I ever give the good Lord all that much cause to smile on me. But he did.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
4af278a
|
The road crossed a dried slough where pipes of ice stood out of the frozen mud like formations in a cave. The remains of an old fire by the side of the road. Beyond that a long concrete causeway. A dead swamp. Dead trees standing out of the gray water trailing gray and relic hagmoss. The silky spills of ash against the curbing. He stood leaning on the gritty concrete rail. Perhaps in the world's destruction it would be possible at last to s..
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
d3104ef
|
In the draws the smoke coming off the ground like mist and the thin black trees burning on the slopes like heathen candles.
|
|
the-road
trees
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
eb83636
|
It took two days to cross that ashen scabland. The road beyond ran along the crest of a ridge where the barren woodland fell away on every side. It's snowing, the boy said. He looked at the sky. A single gray flake sifting down. He caught it in his hand and watched it expire there like the last host of christendom.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
9b52f1b
|
De acuerdo. Esto es lo que hacen los buenos. Seguir intentandolo. Jamas se rinden"."
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
7bdc39e
|
In those first years the roads were peopled with refugees shrouded up in their clothing. Wearing masks and goggles, sitting in their rags by the side of the road like ruined aviators. Their barrows heaped with shoddy. Towing wagons or carts. Their eyes bright in their skulls. Creedless shells of men tottering down the causeways like migrants in a feverland. The frailty of everything revealed at last. Old and troubling issues resolved into n..
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
4d4fa18
|
He said that the light of the world was in men's eyes only for the world itself moved in eternal darkness and darkness was its true nature and true condition and that in this darkness it turned with perfect cohesion in all its parts but that there was naught there to see. He said that the world was sentient to its core and secret and black beyond men's imagining and that its nature did not reside in what could be seen or not seen. He said t..
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
e4dafe9
|
Finally he said that in his first years of darkness his dreams had been vivid beyond all expectation and that he had come to thirst for them but that dreams and memories alike had faded one by one until there were no more. Of all that once had been no trace remained. The look of the world. The faces of loved ones. Finally even his own person was lost to him. Whatever he had been he was no more. He said that like every man who comes to the e..
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
b594532
|
He said that the world was sentient to its core and secret and black beyond men's imagining and that its nature did not reside in what could be seen or not seen.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
1b2efdb
|
At the farther edge of the town they came upon a solitary house in a field and they crossed and entered and walked through the rooms. They came upon themselves in a mirror and he almost raised the pistol. It's us, Papa, the boy whispered. It's us.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
bda7d37
|
The faintly lit hatchway lay in the dark of the yard like a grave yawning at judgement day in some old apocalyptic painting.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
0ec488d
|
The ashes of the late world carried on the bleak and temporal winds to and fro in the void.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
6eba8ec
|
He thought each memory recalled must do some violence to its origins. As in a party game. Say the word and pass it on. So be sparing. What you alter in the remembering has yet a reality,known or not.
|
|
truth
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
5163537
|
You can think of me as a faithless slut if you like. I've taken a new lover. He can give me what you cannot. Death is not a lover. Oh yes he is.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
a57c916
|
He spoke into a blackness without depth or dimension.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |
|
78bf663
|
The snow whispered down in the stillness and the sparks rose and dimmed and died in the eternal blackness.
|
|
|
Cormac McCarthy |