They say death comes like a thief in the night, where is he? I'll hug his neck. — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“Dark of the invisible moon. The night now only slightly less black. By day the banished sun circles the earth like a… — 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… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
What he could bear in the waking world he could not by night and he sat awake for fear the dream would… — 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 night sky lies so sprent with stars that there is scarcely space of black at all and they fall all night… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The nights were blinding cold and casket black and the long reach of the morning had a terrible silence to it. — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The blackness he woke to on those nights was sightless and impenetrable. A blackness to hurt your ears with listening. Often he… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The frailty of everything revealed at last. Old and troubling issues resolved into nothingness and night. The last instance of a thing… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
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
The way of the world is to bloom and to flower and die but in the affairs of men there is no… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“All night sheetlightning quaked sourceless to the west beyond the midnight thunderheads, making a bluish day of the distant desert, the mountains… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“When he woke in the woods in the dark and the cold of the night he'd reach out to touch the child… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
He poured the tumbler full. Drink up, he said. The world goes on. We have dancing nightly and this night is no… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
They heard somewhere in that tenantless night a bell that tolled and ceased where no bell was and they rode out on… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
It had ceased raining in the night and he walked out on the road and called for the dog. He called and… — 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
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
