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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 59b1558 | Betty, he said. Yes. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 2d6b974 | The judge like a great ponderous djinn stepped through the fire and the flames delivered him up as if he were in some way native to their element. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 658845a | The colt stood against the horse with its head down and the horse was watching, out there past men's knowing, where the stars are drowning and whales ferry their vast souls through the black and seamless sea. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| e0c8718 | You have to carry the fire. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 0767aca | And the dreams so rich in color. How else would death call you? Waking in the cold dawn it all turned to ash instantly. | dreams | Cormac McCarthy | |
| a58991a | He came forward, holding his belt by one hand. The holes in it marked the progress of his emaciation and the leather at one side had a lacquered look to it where he was used to stropping the blade of his knife. He stepped down into the roadcut and he looked at the gun and he looked at the boy. Eyes collared in cups of grime and deeply sunk. Like an animal inside a skull looking out the eyeholes. He wore a beard that had been cut square acro.. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 7ca2c85 | What do you say to a man that by his own admission has no soul? Why would you say anything? | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| ee274e1 | Already it is twilight down in the Laredito. Bats fly forth from their roostings in courthouse and tower and circle the quarter. The air is full of the smell of burning charcoal. Children and dogs squat by the mud stoops and gamecocks flap and settle in the branches of the fruit trees. They go afoot, these comrades, down along a bare adobe wall. Band music carries dimly from the square. They pass a watercart in the street and they pass a ho.. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 90e94f0 | The solitary pilgrim drawn up before it had traveled far to be here and he knelt in the hot sand and held his numbed hands out while all about in that circle attended companies of lesser auxiliaries routed forth into the inordinate day, small owls that crouched silently and stood from foot to foot and tarantulas and solpugas and vinegarroons and the vicious mygale spiders and beaded lizards with mouths black as a chowdog's, deadly to man, a.. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 53485ca | You wear out, Ed Tom. All the time you spend tryin to get back what's been took from you there's more goin out the door. After a while you just try and get a tourniquet on it. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 33587fd | We could of brought weeners, she said. Yeah. Marshmallers. You wouldnt think a car would burn like that. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| ff658b2 | Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| bc2737d | There's two kinds of people that dont ask a lot of questions. One is too dumb to and the other dont need to. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 5aa1466 | He rose and stood tottering in that cold dark with his arms held out for balance while the vestibular calculations in his skull cranked out their reckonings. An old chronicle. To seek out the upright. No fall but preceded by a declination... Upright to what? Something nameless in the night, lode or matrix. To which he and the stars were common satellite. Like the great pendulum in its rotunda scribing through the long day movements of the u.. | direction night the-road | Cormac McCarthy | |
| f8d1561 | The faint light all about, quivering and sourceless, refracted in the rain of drifting soot. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 7bbbf9e | Nights dark beyond darkness and the days more gray each one that what had gone before. Like the onset of some cold glaucoma dimming away the world. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 2ff8644 | How much was gone already? The sacred idiom shorn of its referents and so of its reality. Drawing down like something trying to preserve heat. In time to wink out forever. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| f925b88 | The ashes of the late world carried on the bleak and temporal winds to and fro in the void. Carried forth and scattered and carried forth again. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 44f7c39 | Men's memories are uncertain and the past that was differs little from the past that was not | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 9f6b925 | Tilting back in his chair he framed questions for the quaking ovoid of lamplight on the ceiling to pose to him: Supposing there be any soul to listen and you died tonight? They'd listen to my death. No final word? Last words are only words. You can tell me, paradigm of your own sinister genesis construed by a flame in a glass bell. I'd say I was not unhappy. You have nothing. It may be the last shall be first. Do you believe that? No. What .. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| acbbf35 | God speaks in the least of creatures. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 944d1e1 | Dont let go. Okay. No matter what. No matter what. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 97922f2 | The boy's candlecolored skin was all but translucent. | starvation the-road | Cormac McCarthy | |
| 17c89e1 | Okay. This is what the good guys do. They keep trying. They dont give up. Okay. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 542f0b4 | He lives in a room above a courtyard behind a tavern and he comes down at night like some fairybook beast to fight with the sailors. He is not big but he has big wrists, big hands. His shoulders are set close. The child's face is curiously untouched behind the scars, the eyes oddly innocent. They fight with fists, with feet, with bottles or knives. All races, all breeds. Men whose speech sounds like the grunting of apes. Men from lands so f.. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 69515db | The clocks stopped at 1:17. A long shear of light and then a series of low concussions. He got up and went to the window. What is it? she said. He didnt answer. He went to the bathroom and threw the lightswitch but the power was already gone. A dull glow rose in the windowglass. He dropped to one knee and raised the lever to stop the tub and then turned on both taps as far as they would go. She was standing in the doorway in her nightwear, .. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 9c1cfe3 | A rich smell of woodsmoke hung over the road. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 388ffa0 | By then all stores of food had given out and murder was everywhere upon the land. The world soon to be largely populated by men who would eat your children in front of your eyes and the cities themselves held by cores of blackened looters who tunneled among the ruins and crawled from the rubble white tooth and eye carrying charred and anonymous tins of food in nylon nets like shoppers in the commissaries of hell. The soft black talc blew th.. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| f29db23 | He poured the tumbler full. Drink up, he said. The world goes on. We have dancing nightly and this night is no exception. The straight and the winding way are one and now that you are here what do the years count since last we two met together? Men's memories are uncertain and the past that was differs little from the past that was not. He took up the tumbler the judge had poured and he drank and set it down again. He looked at the judge. I.. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 2c7da90 | In truth they did not look like men who might have whiskey they hadnt drunk. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 7b4554c | Naw. Just us old country niggers. We kind of make it a point to call things for what they is. I'd hate to guess how many names they is for the jailhouse. I'd hate to have to count em. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 223271d | guess he said cattle could tell the difference between a flight of geese and a cat on fire. Maybe | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 9e0bab4 | That god lives in silence who has scoured the following land with salt and ash. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| bbb055f | watching the flames twist in the wind. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 1f75852 | You aint ready for that. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 480a0ac | The crimes of the moonlight melonmounter followed him as crimes will. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 9ef62d4 | For let it go how it will, he said, God speaks in the least of creatures. The kid thought him to mean birds or things that crawl but the expriest, watching, his head slightly cocked, said: No man is give leave of that voice. The kid spat into the fire and bent to his work. I aint heard no voice, he said. When it stops, said Tobin, you'll know you've heard it all your life. Is that right? Aye. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 8d65542 | They went through the last of the cars and then walked up the track to the locomotive and climbed up to the catwalk. Rust and scaling paint. They pushed into the cab and he blew away the ash from the engineer's seat and put the boy at the controls. The controls were very simple. Little to do but push the throttle lever forward. He made train noises and diesel horn noises but he wasn't sure what these might mean to the boy. After a while the.. | depressing post-apocalyptic the-end | Cormac McCarthy | |
| 6a01e83 | He understood what the priest could not. That what we seek is the worthy adversary. For we strike out to fall flailing through demons of wire and crepe and we long for something of substance to oppose us. Something to contain us or to stay our hand. Otherwise there were no boundaries to our own being and we too must extend our claims until we lose all definition. Until we must be swallowed up at last by the very void to which we wished to s.. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 55cd51b | No lists of things to be done. The day providential to itself. The hour. There is no later. This is later. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| d926232 | There aint no virtue in quittin what you aint able any longer to do in the first place. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 3e81e1f | If I was supposed to die over there doin what I'd give my word to do then that's what I should of done. You can tell it any way you want but that's the way it is. I should of done it and I didn't. And some part of me has never quit wishin I could go back. And I can't. I didn't know you could steal your own life. And I didn't know that it would bring you no more benefit than about anything else you might steal. I think I done the best with i.. | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| 7edb505 | Black: The point is, Professor, that I aint got the first notion in the world about what makes God tick. I don't know why he spoke to me. I wouldnt of. White: But you listened. Black: Well what choice would you have? White: I don't know. Not listen? Black: How you goin to do that? | Cormac McCarthy | ||
| d1299e1 | I aint God. | Cormac McCarthy |