The man who believes that the secrets of the world are forever hidden lives in mystery and fear. Superstition will drag him… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
All progressions from a higher to a lower order are marked by ruins and mystery and a residue of nameless rage. — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
He said that men believe the blood of the slain to be of no consequence but that the wolf knows better. He… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The judge placed his hands on the ground. He looked at his inquisitor. This is my claim, he said. And yet everywhere… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
Books lie, he said. God dont lie. No, said the judge. He does not. And these are his words. He held up… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The universe is no narrow thing and the order within it is not constrained by any latitude in its conception to repeat… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
They rode like men invested with a purpose whose origins were antecedent to them, like blood legatees of an order both imperative… — 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
