When he went back to the fire he knelt and smoothed her hair as she slept and he said if he were… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“We're going to be okay, aren't we Papa? Yes. We are. And nothing bad is going to happen to us. That's right.… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
They lay listening. Can you do it? When the time comes? When the time comes there will be no time. Now is… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“It was a lone tree burning on the desert. A heraldic tree that the passing storm had left afire. The solitary pilgrim… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
We wouldnt ever eat anybody, would we? No. Of course not. Even if we were starving? We're starving now. You said we… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“You dont get your black ass away from this fire I’ll kill you graveyard dead. He looked to where Glanton sat. Glanton… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
Where hunters and woodcutters once slept in their boots by the dying light of their thousand fires and went on, old teutonic… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
Lying under such a myriad of stars. The sea’s black horizon. He rose and walked out and stood barefoot in the sand… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The judge like a great ponderous djinn stepped through the fire and the flames delivered him up as if he were in… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
If you could breathe a breath so strong you could blow out the wolf. Like you blow out the copo. Like you… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
You have to carry the fire." I don't know how to." Yes, you do." Is the fire real? The fire?" Yes it… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
He looked at a world of incredible loveliness. Old distaff Celt's blood in some back chamber of his brain moved him to… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“How do I know you're one of the good guys? You dont. You'll have to take a shot. Are you carrying the… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
See the child. He is pale and thin, he wears a thin and ragged linen shirt. He stokes the scullery fire. — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The flames sawed in the wind and the embers paled and deepened and paled and deepened like the bloodbeat of some living… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
And in the dream I knew that he was goin on ahead and that he was fixin to make a fire somewhere… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“She looks like her face caught fire and they beat it out with a rake” — 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
