Quotes from Cormac McCarthy

It took two days to cross that ashen scabland. The road beyond ran along the crest of a ridge where the barren woodland fell away on every side. It's snowing, the boy said. He looked at the sky. A single gray flake sifting down. He caught it in his hand and watched it expire there like the last host of christendom.

Okay. This is what the good guys do. They keep trying. They dont give up. Okay.

I will do what I promised, he whispered. No matter what. I will not send you into the darkness alone.

I aint sure we've seen these people before. Their kind. I dont know what to do about em even. If you killed em all they'd have to build a annex on to hell.

All through the long dusk

He said if he is not the word of God God never spoke (4)

De acuerdo. Esto es lo que hacen los buenos. Seguir intentándolo. Jamás se rinden.

Your life is set upon you like a dog.

It is always one's stance upon uncertain ground that invites the attentions of one's enemies. Or discourages it.

When it stops, you'll know you've heard it all your life.

Pomisli da možda u istoriji sveta ?ak i ima više kazni nego zlo?ina, ali ne bi mu to uteha.

The world shrinking down about a raw core of parsible entities. The names of things slowly following those things into oblivion. Colors. The names of birds. Things to eat. Finally the names of things one believed to be true. More fragile than he would have thought. How much was gone already? The sacred idiom shorn of its referents and so of its reality. Drawing down like something trying to preserve heat. In time to wink out forever.

The universe is no narrow thing and the order within it is not constrained by any latitude in its conception to repeat what exists in one part in any other part. Even in this world more things exist without our knowledge than with it and the order in creation which you see is that which you have put there, like a string in a maze, so that you shall not lose your way. For existence has its own order and that no man's mind can compass, that mind itself being but a fact among others.

He sat leaning forward in the seat with his elbows on the empty seatback in front of him and his chin on his forearms and he watched the play with great intensity. He'd notion that there would be something in the story itself to tell him about the way the world was or was becoming but there was not. There was nothing in it at all.

People will tell a stranger on a bus what they wont tell their spouse.

A person who had no one would be well advised to cobble together some passable ghost.

They sat in the little diningroom and ate. She'd put on music, a violin concerto. The phone didnt ring. Did you take it off the hook? No, she said. Wires must be down. She smiled. I think it's just the snow. I think it makes people stop and think. Bell nodded. I hope it comes a blizzard then. Do you remember the last time it snowed here? No, I cant say as I do. Do you? Yes I do. When was it. It'll come to you. Oh. She smiled. They ate.

That there is little joy in the world is not just a view of things. Every benevolence is suspect. You finally figure out that the world does not have you in mind. It never did.

He said there was nothin to set a man's mind at ease like wakin up in the morning and not havin to decide who you were.

The uncle lit up and blew smoke in a thin blue viper's breath toward the window. It coiled and diffused in the yellow light. He smiled. I'd like to have a dollar for every time I quit, he said.

If you have a patient with a condition that's not understood why not ascribe it to a disorder that is also not understood? Autism occurs in males more than it does in females. So does higher order mathematical intuition. We think: What is this about? Dont know. What is at the heart of it? Dont know. All I can tell you is that I like numbers. I like their shapes and their colors and their smells and the way they taste. And I dont like to take people's word for things.

You have to carry the fire.

Black boots, said Rawlins. Aint that the shits? I always wanted to be a badman.

history presses upon us the realization that all knowledge is a borrowing and every fact a debt. For each event is revealed to us only at the surrender of every alternate course. For us, the whole of the traveler's life converges at this place and this hour, whatever we may know of that life or out of whatever stuff it may be made. De acuerdo?