Death Quote by Cormac McCarthy

“When we're all gone at last then there'll be nobody here but death and his days will be numbered too.” quote by Cormac McCarthy — Download Open image

““When we're all gone at last then there'll be nobody here but death and his days will be numbered too.””

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Death

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The cooler days have brought a wistful mood upon him. The smell of coalsmoke in the air at night. Old times, dead years. For…

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“The events of the world can have no separate life from the world. And yet the world itself can have no temporal view of things. It can have no cause to favor certain enterprises over others. The passing of armies and the passing of sands in the desert are one. There is no favoring, you see. How could there be?…

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“I had two dreams about him after he died. I dont remember the first one all that well but it was about meetin him in town somewheres and he give me some money and I think I lost it. But the second one it was like we was both back in older times and I was on horseback goin through…

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“You think people was meaner then than they are now? the deputy said. The old man was looking out at the flooded town. No,…

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“They set forth in a crimson dawn where sky and earth closed in a razorous plane. Out there dark little archipelagos of cloud and the vast world of sand and scrub shearing upward into the shoreless void where those blue islands trembled and the earth grew uncertain, gravely canted and veering out through tinctures of rose and the dark beyond…

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“Nothing. Where all was burnt to ash before them no fires were to be had and the nights were long and dark and cold…

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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…

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“He lives in a room above a courtyard behind a tavern and he comes down at night like some fairybook beast to fight with the sailors. He is not big but he has big wrists, big hands. His shoulders are set close. The child's face is curiously untouched behind the scars, the eyes oddly innocent. They fight with fists, with…

Cormac McCarthy

“Ultimo hombre. Last man standing, must've been one. Where'd he go?”

Cormac McCarthy

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“To seek out the upright. No fall but preceded by a declination. He took great marching steps into the nothingness, counting them against his return. Eyes closed, arms oaring. Upright to what? Something nameless in the night, lode or matrix. To which he and the stars were common satellite. Like the great pendulum in its rotunda scribing through the long…

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“They went through the last of the cars and then walked up the track to the locomotive and climbed up to the catwalk. Rust and scaling paint. They pushed into the cab and he blew away the ash from the engineer's seat and put the boy at the controls. The controls were very simple. Little to do but push the…

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“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

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“He wondered how it was fair that your dying should depend so much on when you were born.”

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What sets worlds in motion is the interplay of differences, their attractions and repulsions. Life is plurality, death is uniformity. By suppressing differences and pecularities, by eliminating different civilizations and cultures, progress weakens life and favors death. The ideal of a single civilization for everyone, implicit in the cult of progress and technique, impoverishes and mutilates us. Every view of…

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Most of us are convinced that we are our egos, which is who we think we are. The ego is part of our incarnation.…

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I do not want to live at the cost of the life even of a snake. I should let him bite me to death…

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“It was beautiful. He thought he had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life; that, having seen it, he could die content, knowing that he would never see anything so beautiful again. He wished he could have seen it for longer. More, he wished he could have taken it apart, studied it all the way down to its…

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With multiplayer, permanent death, and an ever-changing world to explore and conquer, 'A Valley Without Wind' might be the place you're looking for if…

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“What did you see?” she asked gently. His brow furrowed, as if he could not understand the question. Then his eyes turned to the paper on which he'd been writing. They went to the quill that he seemed surprised to see in his hand. When he turned to look at her again, fresh tears spilled from Michel de Nostredame's eyes.…

J. Anthony Torino