“He imagined the pain of the world to be like some formless parasitic being seeking out the warmth of human souls wherein… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
But there are no absolutes in human misery and things can always get worse — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
All human love is a faint type of God's; An echoing note from a harmonious whole; A feeble spark from an undying… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
If you think about some of the things that are being talked about by thoughtful, intelligent scientists, you realize that in 100… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
I think if you were Satan and you were settin around tryin to think up somethin that would just bring the human… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
Ive seen the meanness of humans till I dont know why God aint put out the sun and gone away. — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
He had divested himself of the little cloaked godlet and his other amulets in a place where they would not be found… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
In the nights sometimes now he'd wake in the back and freezing waste out of softly colored worlds of human love, the… — 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
