“What do you say to a man that by his own admission has no soul? Why would you say anything?” — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
What deity in the realms of dementia, what rabid god decocted out of the smoking lobes of hydrophobia could have devised a… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“Put away these frozenjawed primates and their annals of ways beset and ultimate dark. What deity in the realms of dementia, what… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
The notion that the species can be improved in some way, that everyone could live in harmony, is a really dangerous idea.… — 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
What do you believe? I believe that the last and the first suffer equally. Pari passu. Equally? It is not alone in… — Cormac McCarthy Copy Share Image
“I wanted very much to be a person of value and I had to ask myself how this could be possible if… — 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
