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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 15da115 | I should have done it a long time ago. When there were three bullets in the gun instead of two. I was stupid. We've been over all of this. I didnt bring myself to this. I was brought. And now I'm done. I thought about not even telling you. That would probably have been best. You have two bullets and then what? You cant protect us. You say you would die for us but what good is that? I'd take him with me if it werent for you. You know I would.. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 58c2181 | Life is being in bed with you. Everything else is just waiting. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| f3e1165 | War is the ultimate game because war is at last a forcing of the unity of existence. War is God. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 1481c66 | There is no one to tell us what might have been. We weep over the might have been, but there is no might have been. There never was. It is supposed to be true that those who do not know history are condemned to repeat it. I don't believe knowing can save us. What is constant in history is greed and foolishness and a love of blood and this is a thing that even God- who knows all that can be known- seems powerless to change. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| e3e6e31 | Se quedo escuchando el goteo del agua en el bosque. Lecho rocoso, este. El frio y el silencio. Las cenizas del mundo difunto trajinadas de aca para alla por los crudos y transitorios vientos en el vacio. Llevadas, esparcidas y llevadas de nuevo. Todo desencajado de su apuntalamiento. Sin soporte en el viento cinereo. Sostenido por una respiracion, temblorosa y breve. Ojala mi corazon fuese de piedra. | la-carretera mccarthy the-road | Cormac McCarthy | |
| 2ff72b0 | She looks like her face caught fire and they beat it out with a rake | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| d77754d | Anyway, you never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| f42ad2d | The sacred idiom shorn of its referents and so of its reality. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| a252847 | The uncle lit up and blew smoke in a thin blue viper's breath toward the window. It coiled and diffused in the yellow light. He smiled. I'd like to have a dollar for every time I quit, he said. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 210c324 | Ten thousand dreams ensepulchered within their crozzled hearts. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| e113b38 | I remember back a number of years, talkin about fairs, they had a old boy come through would shoot live pigeons with ye. Him with a rifle and you with a shotgun. Or anything else. He must of had a truckload of pigeons. Had a boy out in the middle of a field with a crateful and he'd holler and the boy'd let one slip and he'd raise his rifle and blam, he'd dust it. Misters, he could strictly make the feathers fly. We'd never seen the like of .. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| e0b77fa | Our waking life's desire to shape the world to our convenience invites all manner of paradox and difficulty. All in our custody seethes with an inner restlessness. But in dreams we stand in this great democracy of the possible and there we are right pilgrims indeed. There we go forth to meet what we shall meet. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 68857d7 | If he is not the word of God God never spoke | religious-faith | Cormac McCarthy | |
| 22c2b9b | It makes no difference what men think of war, said the judge. ... War endures. As well ask men what they think of stone. War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner. That is the way it was and will be. That way and not some other way... | warriors | Cormac McCarthy | |
| 39fc0ce | People are always getting ready for tomorrow. I didn't believe in that. Tomorrow wasn't getting ready for them. It didn't even know they were there. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 2484fed | Do you remember that little boy, Papa? Yes. I remember him. Do you think he's all right that little boy? Oh yes. I think he's all right. Do you think he was lost? No. I don't think he was lost. I'm scared that he was lost. I think he's all right. But who will find him if he's lost? Who will find that little boy? Goodness will find the little boy. It always has. It will again. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 4f7ba88 | The man thought he seemed some sad and solitary changeling child announcing the arrival of a traveling spectacle in shire and village who does not know that behind him the players have all been carried off by wolves. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 1bf53ab | The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 1fa559a | The flames sawed in the wind and the embers paled and deepened and paled and deepened like the bloodbeat of some living thing eviscerate upon the ground before them and they watched the fire which does contain within it something of men themselves inasmuch as they are less without it and are divided from their origins and are exiles. For each fire is all fires, the first fire and the last ever to be. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| e5a7239 | Men are born for games. Nothing else. Every child knows that play is nobler than work. He knows too that the worth or merit of a game is not inherent in the game itself but rather in the value of that which is put at hazard. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 8295043 | He walked to the top of a rise and crouched and watched the day accrue. The chary dawn, the cold illucid world. | the-road pretentious morning | Cormac McCarthy | |
| 331e19f | Beware, gentle knight. There is no greater monster than reason. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 0032ffa | He looked like he was studying something small in the grass. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 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 | |
| 0ed8b5c | If life is a book, then read it while you can. | Pete McCarthy | ||
| 594171a | For we rationalize, objectify, and personalize the process of the game exactly as we do that of a play, a drama. For, finally, it is a drama, with meaning for our lives. Why else would we watch it? | David Mamet | ||
| 213e8e9 | But shame, a breaking open of the heart before God, leads, so the Rabbis say, to that true self-knowledge necessary for change. For | David Mamet | ||
| 8d93977 | Do not internalize the industrial model. You are not one of the myriad of interchangeable pieces, but a unique human being, and if you've got something to say, say it, and think well of yourself while you're learning to say it better. --David Mamet | Seth Godin | ||
| df93239 | How was her crumbcake? | David Mamet | ||
| 5843020 | The leaf of the camomile, parboiled in water, conduces to calm. And yet I do not worship it. | worship | David Mamet | |
| 3017b7b | The political impulse, similarly, must, however manifested, proceed from a universal urge to order social relations. Emotions | David Mamet | ||
| 046dc8d | The interior life is often stupid. Its egoism blinds it and deafens it; its imagination spins out ignorant tales, fascinated. It fancies that the western wind blows on the Self, and leaves fall at the feet of the Self for a reason, and people are watching. A mind risks real ignorance for the sometimes paltry prize of an imagination enriched. The trick of reason is to get the imagination to seize the actual world--if only from time to time. | imagination interior-life self | Annie Dillard | |
| d0b8cbb | What I sought in books was imagination. It was depth, depth of thought and feeling; some sort of extreme of subject matter; some nearness to death; some call to courage. I myself was getting wild; I wanted wildness, originality, genius, rapture, hope. I wanted strength, not tea parties. What I sought in books was a world whose surfaces, whose people and events and days lived, actually matched the exaltation of the interior life. There you c.. | annie dillard | ||
| 06ed679 | At it's best,the sensation of writing is that of any unmerited grace. It is handed to you, but only if you look for it. You search, you break your heart, your back, your brain, and then - and only then - it is handed to you. From the corner of your eye you see motion. Something is moving through the air and headed your way. | writing-process | Annie Dillard (Author) | |
| f2a033b | How loose he seemed to himself, under the stars! The spaces between the stars were pores, out of which human meaning evaporated. | Annie Dillard | ||
| 710df0e | One of the few things I know about writing is this:spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book, or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is a signal to spend it now. Something more will arise later, something better. These things fill from behind, from beneath, like well water. | writing-life on-writing-a-book on-writing | Annie Dillard |