You are either born a writer or you are not. Cormac McCarthy More Quotes by Cormac McCarthy More Quotes From Cormac McCarthy You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from. Cormac McCarthy fortune-and-luckbad-luckgood-luck He walked out in the gray light and stood and he saw for a brief moment the absolute truth of the world. The cold relentless circling of the intestate earth. Darkness implacable. The blind dogs of the sun in their running. The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it. Cormac McCarthy crushdogrunning You forget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want to forget. Cormac McCarthy wantforgetremember Ive seen the meanness of humans till I dont know why God aint put out the sun and gone away. Cormac McCarthy gone-awaymeannesssun He stood at the window of the empty cafe and watched the activites in the square and he said that it was good that God kept the truths of life from the young as they were starting out or else they'd have no heart to start at all. Cormac McCarthy cafessquaresheart The rain falls upon the just And also on the unjust fellas But mostly it falls upon the just Cause the unjust have the just's umbrellas Cormac McCarthy unjustrainfall Keep a little fire burning; however small, however hidden. Cormac McCarthy fireattitudeinspirational Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real. Cormac McCarthy realhealingtime Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting. Cormac McCarthy waitingwishlying You give up the world line by line. Stoically. And then one day you realize that your courage is farcical. It doesn't mean anything. You've become an accomplice in your own annihilation and there is nothing you can do about it. Everything you do closes a door somewhere ahead of you. And finally there is only one door left. Cormac McCarthy giving-updoorsmean You can tell it any way you want but that's the way it is. I should of done it and I didnt. And some part of me has never quit wishin I could go back. And I cant. I didn't know you could steal your own life. And I didnt know that it would bring you no more benefit than about anything else you might steal. I thinkI done the best with itI knew how but itstill wasntmine. It neverhas been. Cormac McCarthy benefitsdonethinking I got what I needed instead of what I wanted and that's just about the best kind of luck you can have. Cormac McCarthy luckkindneeded Each leaf that brushed his face deepened his sadness and dread. Each leaf he passed he'd never pass again. They rode over his face like veils, already some yellow, their veins like slender bones where the sun shone through them. He had resolved himself to ride on for he could not turn back and the world that day was as lovely as any day that ever was and he was riding to his death. Cormac McCarthy lovelysadnessyellow Anything that doesn't take years of your life and drive you to suicide hardly seems worth doing. Cormac McCarthy suicideseemsyears The man who believes that the secrets of the world are forever hidden lives in mystery and fear. Superstition will drag him down. The rain will erode the deeds of his life. But that man who sets himself the task of singling out the thread of order from the tapestry will by the decision alone have taken charge of the world and it is only by such taking charge that he will effect a way to dictate the terms of his own fate. Cormac McCarthy fearrainbelieve Our enemies ... seem always with us. The greater our hatred the more persistent the memory of them so that a truly terrible enemy becomes deathless. So that the man who has done you great injury or injustice makes himself a guest in your house forever. Perhaps only forgiveness can dislodge him. Cormac McCarthy hatredmenmemories She said that these were things all women knew yet seldom spoke of. Lastly she said that if women were drawn to rash men it was only that in their secret hearts they knew that a man who would not kill for them was of no use at all. Cormac McCarthy secretheartmen The man smiled at him a sly smile. As if they knew a secret between them, these two. Something of age and youth and their claims and the justice of those claims. And of their claims upon them. The world past, the world to come. Their common transciencies. Above all a knowing deep in the bone that beauty and loss are one. Cormac McCarthy lossmenpast From daydreams on the road there was no waking. He plodded on. He could remember everything of her save her scent. Seated in a theatre with her beside him leaning forward listening to the music. Gold scrollwork and sconces and the tall columnar folds of the drapes at either side of the stage. She held his hand in her lap and he could feel the tops of her stockings through the thin stuff of her summer dress. Freeze this frame. Now call down your dark and your cold and be damned. Cormac McCarthy remembers-everythingsummerdark If there's one thing on this planet you don't look like it's a bunch of good luck walkin around. Cormac McCarthy good-luckbunchlooks
