There is a moon shaped rictus in the streetlamp's globe where a stone has gone and from this aperture there drifts down through the constant helix of aspiring insects a faint and steady rain of the same forms burnt and lifeless. Cormac McCarthy More Quotes by Cormac McCarthy More Quotes From Cormac McCarthy Only now is the child finally divested of all that he has been. His origins are become remote as is his destiny and not again in all the world's turning will there be terrains so wild and barbarous to try whether the stuff of creation may be shaped to man's will or whether his own heart is not another kind of clay. Cormac McCarthy destinyheartchildren He knew only that his child was his warrant. He said: If he is not the word of God God never spoke. Cormac McCarthy spokessaidchildren Every day is a lie. But you are dying. That is not a lie. Cormac McCarthy dyinglying The world is quite ruthless in selecting between the dream and the reality, even where we will not. Cormac McCarthy dreamrealityworld Lying under such a myriad of stars. The sea’s black horizon. He rose and walked out and stood barefoot in the sand and watched the pale surf appear all down the shore and roll and crash and darken again. When he went back to the fire he knelt and smoothed her hair as she slept and he said if he were God he would have made the world just so and no different. Cormac McCarthy starsfirelying I didn't mean I'd seen everything, John Grady said. I know you didn't. I just meant I'd seen some things I'd as soon not of. I 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. Yessir. Cormac McCarthy gonemeanworld In the spring or warmer weather when the snow thaws in the woods the tracks of winter reappear on slender pedestals and the snow reveals in palimpsest old buried wanderings, struggles, scenes of death. Tales of winter brought to light again like time turned back upon itself. Cormac McCarthy strugglewinterspring There is no such joy in the tavern as upon the road thereto. Cormac McCarthy tavernsjoy And perhaps beyond those shrouded swells another man did walk with another child on the dead gray sands. Slept but a sea apart on another beach among the bitter ashes of the world or stood in their rags lost to the same indifferent sun. Cormac McCarthy menbeachchildren 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. Cormac McCarthy mindmenorder I think if you were Satan and you were settin around tryin to think up somethin that would just bring the human race to its knees what you would probably come up with is narcotics. Cormac McCarthy kneesracethinking The trouble with a liar is he can't remember what he said. Cormac McCarthy liarsrememberlying Rage is really only for the good days. The truth is there's little of that left. the truth is that the forms I see have been slowly emptied out. They no longer have any content. They are shapes only. A train, a wall, a world. Or a man. A thing dangling in senseless articulation in a howling void. No meaning to its life. Its words. Why would I seek the company of such a thing? Why? Cormac McCarthy good-daywallmen There is no God and we are his prophets. Cormac McCarthy there-is-no-godprophetreligion They spoke less and less between them until at last they were silent altogether as is often the way with travelers approaching the end of a journey. Cormac McCarthy lastsjourneyway They heard somewhere in that tenantless night a bell that tolled and ceased where no bell was and they rode out on the round dais of the earth which alone was dark and no light to it and which carried their figures and bore them up into the swarming stars so that they rode not under but among them and they rode at once jaunty and circumspect, like thieves newly loosed in that dark electric, like young thieves in a glowing orchard, loosely jacketed against the cold and ten thousand worlds for the choosing. Cormac McCarthy starsdarknight By day the banished sun circles the earth like a grieving mother with a lamp. Cormac McCarthy mothermotivationalinspirational This is my child, he said. I wash a dead man's brains out of his hair. That is my job. Cormac McCarthy jobsmenchildren He didn't say a lot so I tend to remember what he did say. And I don't remember that he had a lot of patience with havin to say things twice so I learned to listen the first time. Cormac McCarthy first-timerememberfirsts He'd half meant to speak but those eyes had altered the world forever in the space of a heartbeat. Cormac McCarthy spaceeyeforever
