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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.
Cormac McCarthy
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Cormac McCarthy
Age: 91
Born: 1933
Born: July 20
Novelist
Playwright
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
Writer
Providence
Rhode Island
Charles McCarthy
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If people knew the story of their lives, how many would then elect to live them?
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You have my whole heart. You always did.
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Even the damned in hell have the community of their suffering.
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He spoke of his campaigns in the deserts of Mexico and he told them of horses killed under him and he said that the souls of horses mirror the souls of men more closely than men suppose and that horses also love war. Men say they only learn this but he said that no creature can learn that which his heart has no shape to holo
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Hard weather, says the old man. So let it be. Wrap me in the weathers of the earth, I will be hard and hard. My face will wash rain like the stones.
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Words pale and lose their savor while pain is always new.
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There is no such joy in the tavern as upon the road thereto.
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When the shooting starts would you rather be armed or legal?
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There's a difference between quittin and knowin when you're beat.
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Pain for the old was no longer a surprise.
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The things that I loved were very frail. Very fragile. I didn't know that. I thought they were indestructible. They weren't.
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The jagged mountains were pure blue in the dawn and everywhere birds twittered and the sun when it rose caught the moon in the west so that they lay opposed to each other across the earth, the sun whitehot and the moon a pale replica, as if they were the ends of a common bore beyond whose terminals burned worlds past all reckoning.
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Looking over the country with those sunken eyes as if the world out there had been altered or made suspect by what he'd seen of it elsewhere. As if he might never see it right again. Or worse did see it right at last. See it as it had always been, would forever be.
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I guess if everybody went crazy together nobody would notice.
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Hell ain't half full.
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Any time you're throwin dirt you're losin ground.
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This is my child, he said. I wash a dead man's brains out of his hair. That is my job.
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Just take me with you. Please. I cant. Please, Papa. I cant. I cant hold my son dead in my arms. I thought I could but I cant.
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How does a man decide in what order to abandon his life?
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In every trade save war men of talent and vigor prosper. In war they die.
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