They watched storms out there so distant they could not be heard, the silent lightning flaring sheetwise and the thin black spine… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
Finally he said that among men there was no such communion as among horses and the notion that men can be understood… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“He spoke of his campaigns in the deserts of Mexico and he told them of horses killed under him and he said… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
Maybe it's like Mac says. Ever man winds up with the horse that suits him. — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The night is quiet. Like a camp before battle. The city beset by a thing unknown and will it come from forest… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
What he loved in horses was what he loved in men, the blood and the heat of the blood that ran them.… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
He rose and turned toward the lights of town. The tidepools bright as smelterpots among the dark rocks where the phosphorescent seacrabs… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
A goodlookin horse is like a goodlookin woman, he said. They're always more trouble than what they're worth. What a man needs… — 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
