Quotes from Cormac McCarthy

Yeah. He aint here to say though, is he? I dont know. Someways I think he'll always have a say.

Como num daqueles jogos que se jogam nas festas. Diz a palavra ao ouvido do seguinte. Por isso, sejamos parcimoniosos. Aquilo que alteramos nas recordações também em a sua realidade, conhecida ou não.

IN FOUR DAYS' riding he crossed the Pecos at Iraan Texas and rode up out of the river breaks where the pumpjacks in the Yates Field ranged against the skyline rose and dipped like mechanical birds. Like great primitive birds welded up out of iron by hearsay in a land perhaps where such birds once had been.

O akÅŸam ateÅŸ ba??nda oturdular ve oÄŸlan s?cak çorba içti ve adam sopalarda buharlar? tüten giysilerini çevirdi ve oÄŸlan mahcup olana kadar oturup onu izledi. Beni izlemekten vazgeç, baba, dedi. Tamam. Gene de izledi ama.

Yeah, said the Kid. He dredged up his watch and checked the time. Maybe you'd better go eat. You need to keep your strength up if you aim to wrest the secrets of creation from the gods. They're a testy lot by all accounts.

Two wrongs don't make a riot.

One thing about me, when I'm wrong I'll admit it. Well. That's a good trait to have.

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

The boy who rode on slightly before him sat a horse not only as if he'd been born to it which he was but as if were he begot by malice or mischance into some queer land where horses never were he would have found them anyway.

They took council. On that raw tablestone the flames of their balefire swirled and circled and they studied the arrant blackness under them where it fell away like the sheer cloven face of the world.

This is a dog. He is dead too. This

They're a pack of dimpled fuckwits and you can tell them I said so.

This is him, cried the reverend, sobbing. This is him. The devil. Here he stands.

dwindling slowly on the road behind him like some storybook peddler from an antique time, dark and bent and spider thin and soon to vanish forever.

All things of grace and beauty such that one holds them to one's heart have a common provenance in pain. Their birth in grief and ashes.

It's a mess, aint it Sheriff? If it aint it'll do till a mess gets here.

I suppose in the end what we have to offer is only what we've lost.

Folk gjorde sig jämt redo för morgondagen. Sådant trodde jag inte på. Morgondagen gjorde sig inte redo för dem. Den visste inte ens att de fanns.

If I dont come back tell Mother I love her. Your mother's dead Llewelyn. Well I'll tell her myself then.

In this world the mask is what is true.

A creation perfectly evolved to meet its own end.

The winter that Boyd turned fourteen the trees inhabiting the dry river bed were bare from early on and the sky was gray day after day and the trees were pale against it. A cold wind had come down from the north with the earth running under bare poles toward a reckoning whose ledgers would be drawn up and dated only long after all due claims had passed, such is this history.

They rode back, Rawlins leading the riderless horse by the bridlereins. Blevins was sitting in the middle of the road. He still had his hat on. Whoo, he said when he saw them. I'm drunkern shit. They sat their horses and looked down at him. Can you ride or not? said Rawlins. Does a bear shit in the woods? Hell yes I can ride. I was ridin when I fell off. He stood uncertainly and peered about.

Lightning stood in ragged chains far to the south, silent, the staccato mountains bespoken blue and barren out of the void.