Every man's death is standing in for every other. And since death comes to all there is no way to abate the… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“Finally he said that in his first years of darkness his dreams had been vivid beyond all expectation and that he had… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The priest therefore saw what the anchorite could not. That God needs no witness. Neither to himself nor against. The truth is… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“Whether in my book or not, every man is tabernacled in every other and he in exchange and so on in an… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“Wrinkle not thy sable brow at me, my friend. All will be known to you at last. To you as to every… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“He said that like every man who comes to the end of something there was nothing to be done but to begin… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“every man is tabernacled in every other, and he in exchange and so on in an endless complexity of being and witness… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“What do you think death is, man? Of whom do we speak when we speak of a man who was and is… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The cooler days have brought a wistful mood upon him. The smell of coalsmoke in the air at night. Old times, dead years. For… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“The events of the world can have no separate life from the world. And yet the world itself can have no temporal view of… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“I had two dreams about him after he died. I dont remember the first one all that well but it was about meetin him… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“You think people was meaner then than they are now? the deputy said. The old man was looking out at the flooded town. No,… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“They set forth in a crimson dawn where sky and earth closed in a razorous plane. Out there dark little archipelagos of cloud and… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“Nothing. Where all was burnt to ash before them no fires were to be had and the nights were long and dark and cold… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
He said that whether a man's life was writ in a book someplace or whether it took its form day by day was one… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“He lives in a room above a courtyard behind a tavern and he comes down at night like some fairybook beast to fight with… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“Ultimo hombre. Last man standing, must've been one. Where'd he go?” — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“To seek out the upright. No fall but preceded by a declination. He took great marching steps into the nothingness, counting them against his… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“They went through the last of the cars and then walked up the track to the locomotive and climbed up to the catwalk. Rust… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“Night fell upon them dark and starblown and the wagon grew swollen near mute with dew. On their chairs in such black immobility these… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
