Quotes from Cormac McCarthy

You will never know what the world is made of. The only thing that's certain is that it's not made of the world. As you close upon some mathematical description of reality you can't help but lose what is being described.

He can neither read nor write and in him broods already a taste for mindless violence. All history present in that visage, the child the father of the man.

Beauty makes promises that beauty cant keep. I've seen it too many times. Twice in this house.

Sürmeye devam etti çünkü geri dönemezdi ve dünya o gün her zamankinden de güzeldi, o ise ölümüne yol al?yordu.

The world will take your life. But above all and lastly the world does not know that you are here. You think that you understand this. But you don't. Not in your heart you don't. If you did you would be terrified. And you're not. Not yet. And now, good night.

When you're defenseless you keep your opinions to yourself.

He said that while it was true that time heals bereavement it does so only at the cost of the slow extinction of those loved ones from the heart's memory which is the sole place of their abode then or now. Faces fade, voices dim. Seize them back, whispered the sepulturero. Speak with them. Call their names. Do this and do not let sorrow die for it is the sweetening of every gift.

If I think about what I wanted as a kid and what I want now they aint the same thing. I guess what I wanted wasnt what I wanted.

A man's at odds to know his mind cause his mind is aught he has to know it with.

All of history a rehearsal for its own extinction

In his hand he held a longbarreled sixshot Colt's patent revolver. It was a huge sidearm meant for dragoons and it carried in its long cylinders a rifle's charge and weighed close to five pounds loaded.

When the Papayuna is pining you need to call home.

There are no absolutes in human misery, and things can always get worse.

An old man in a tyrolean costume was shuffling among the rough tables with his hat outheld while a little girl in a smock cranked a barrel organ and a bear in a crinoline twirled strangely upon a board stage defined by a row of tallow candles that dripped and sputtered in their pools of grease.

wrath of God lies sleeping. It was hid a million years before men were and only men have power to wake it. Hell aint half full. Hear me. Ye carry war of a madman's making onto a foreign land. Ye'll wake more than the dogs.

And rage is only for what you believe can be fixed. All the rest is grief

He had not stopped cursing. Whatever voice spoke him was no demon but some old shed self that came yet from time to time in the name of sanity, a hand to gentle him back from the rim of his disastrous wrath.

What should give you pause is that suicides scales with intelligence in the animal kingdom and you might wonder if this is not true of individuals as well as species.

know it. There's hard lessons in this world. What's the hardest? I dont know. Maybe it's just that when things are gone they're gone. They aint comin back.

There are not any composers like Bach. There's just Bach.

I've heard of some that was supposed to be better and I'm sure there were some better. I just never did see any of em.

Sheddan said once that having read a few dozen books in common was more binding than blood.

Well. In this case it was led by a group of evil and aberrant and wholly malicious partial differential equations who had conspired to usurp their own reality from the questionable circuitry of its creator's brain not unlike the rebellion which Milton describes and to fly their colors as an independent nation unaccountable to God or man alike. Something like that. You

Someone had reported the judge naked atop the walls, immense and pale in the revelations of lightning, striding the perimeter up there and declaiming in the old epic mode.