Cormac McCarthy

I cant back up and start over. But I dont see the point in slobberin over it. And I cant see where it would make me feel better to be able to point a finger at somebody else.

— Cormac McCarthy

There aint but one truth, said John Grady. The truth is what happened. It aint what come out of somebody's mouth.

— Cormac McCarthy

It is supposed to be true that those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it. I don’t believe knowing can save us. What is constant in history is greed and foolishness and a love of blood, and this is a thing that even God—who knows all that can be known—seems powerless to change.

— Cormac McCarthy

If you could breathe a breath so strong you could blow out the wolf. Like you blow out the copo. Like you blow out the fire from the candela. The wolf is made the way the world is made. You cannot touch the world. You cannot hold it in your hand for it is made of breath only.

— Cormac McCarthy

The road has its own reasons and no two travelers will have the same understanding of those reasons. If indeed they come to an understanding of them at all.

— Cormac McCarthy

When he looked back at the primadonna she was watching them through the spyglasses. As if she might better assess them in that way where they set forth upon the shadowbanded road, the coming twilight. Inhabiting only that ocular ground in which the country appeared out of nothing and vanished again into nothing, tree and rock and the darkening mountains beyond, all of it contained and itself containing only what was needed and nothing more.

— Cormac McCarthy

We think we are the victims of time. In reality, the way of the world isn't fixed anywhere. How could that be possible? We are our own journey. And therefore we are time as well. We are the same. Fugitive. Inscrutable. Ruthless.

— Cormac McCarthy

Billy asked him if such men as had stole his eyes were only products of the war but the blind man said that since war itself was their very doing that could hardly be the case.

— Cormac McCarthy

Your brother is still young enough to believe that the past still exists, he said. That the injustices within it await his remedy.

— Cormac McCarthy

You do not know what things you set in motion, he said. No man can know. No prophet foresee. The consequences of an act are often quite different from what one would guess. You must be sure that the intention in your heart is large enough to contain all wrong turnings, all disappointments. Do you see? Not everything has such value.

— Cormac McCarthy

The world has no name, he said. The names of the cerros and the sierras and the deserts exist only on maps. We name them so that we do not lose our way. Yet it was because the way was lost to us already that we have made those names. The world cannot be lost. We are the ones. And it is because these names and these coordinates are our own naming that they cannot save us. That they cannot find for us the way again.

— Cormac McCarthy

He said that both views were one view and that while men may meet with death in strange and obscure places which they might well have avoided it was more correct to say that no matter how hidden or crooked the path to their destruction yet they would seek it out. He smiled. He spoke as one who seemed to understand that death was the condition of existence and life but an emanation thereof.

— Cormac McCarthy

If people knew the story of their lives how many would then elect to live them?

— Cormac McCarthy

The martyr who longs for the flames can be no right candidate for them.

— Cormac McCarthy

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

Our waking life's desire to shape the world to our convenience invites all manner of paradox and difficulty.

— Cormac McCarthy

Nothin wounded goes uphill, he said. It just dont happen.

— Cormac McCarthy

People complain about the bad things that happen to em that they don't deserve but they seldom mention the good. About what they done to deserve them things. I don't recall that I ever give the good Lord all that much cause to smile on me. But he did.

— Cormac McCarthy

It had already occurred to him that he would probably never be safe again in his life and he wondered if that was something that you got used to. And if you did?

— Cormac McCarthy

I’ll tell you somethin, Sheriff. Nineteen is old enough to know that if you have got somethin that means the world to you it’s all that more likely it’ll get took away. Sixteen was, for that matter. I think about that

— Cormac McCarthy

It takes very little to govern good people. Very little. And bad people cant be governed at all. Or if they could I never heard of it.

— Cormac McCarthy

Every moment in your life is a turning and every one a choosing. Somewhere you made a choice. All followed to this. The accounting is scrupulous. The shape is drawn. No line can be erased. I had no belief in your ability to move a coin to your bidding. How could you? A person's path through the world seldom changes and even more seldom will it change abruptly. And the shape of your path was visible from the beginning.

— Cormac McCarthy

It's not about knowin where you are. It's about thinkin you got there without takin anything with you. Your notions about startin over. Or anybody's. You dont start over. That's what it's about. Every step you take is forever. You cant make it go away. None of it.

— Cormac McCarthy

You think when you wake up in the mornin yesterday dont count. But yesterday is all that does count. What else is there? Your life is made out of the days it's made out of. Nothin else. You might think you could run away and change your name and I dont know what all. Start over. And then one mornin you wake up and look at the ceilin and guess who's layin there?

— Cormac McCarthy

Well, I guess in all honesty I would have to say that I never knew nor did I ever hear of anybody that money didnt change.

— Cormac McCarthy

If it ain't a mess, it'll do till the mess gets here.

— Cormac McCarthy

Getting hurt changed me, he said. Changed my perspective. I've moved on, in a way. Some things have fallen into place that were not there before. I thought they were, but they werent. The best way I can put it is that I've sort of caught up with myself. That's not a bad thing. It was overdue.

— Cormac McCarthy

Somewhere in the world is the most invincible man. Just as somewhere is the most vulnerable.

— Cormac McCarthy

My daddy always told me to just do the best you knew how and tell the truth. He said there was nothin to set a man's mind at ease like wakin up in the morning and not havin to decide who you were.

— Cormac McCarthy

I think the truth is always simple. It has pretty much got to be. It needs to be simple enough for a child to understand. Otherwise it'd be too late. By the time you figured it out it would be too late.

— Cormac McCarthy

If the rule you followed brought you to this, of what use was the rule?

— Cormac McCarthy

It was the nature of his profession that his experience with death should be greater than for most and 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.

— Cormac McCarthy

He (Wells) closed his eyes and he turned his head and he raised one hand to fend away what could not be fended away. Chigurh shot him in the face. Everything that Wells had ever known or thought or loved drained slowly down the wall behind him. His mother's face, his First Communion, women he had known. The faces of men as they died on their knees before him. The body of a child dead in a roadside ravine in another country.

— Cormac McCarthy

[H]e knew that fear of an enemy can often blind men to other hazards, not least the shape which they themselves make in the world.

— Cormac McCarthy

The prospect of outsized profits leads people to exaggerate their own capabilities. In their minds. They pretend to themselves that they are in control of events where perhaps they are not. And it is always one's stance upon uncertain ground that invites the attentions of one's enemies. Or discourages it.

— Cormac McCarthy

How to prevail over that which you refuse to acknowledge the existence of.

— Cormac McCarthy

When I came into your life your life was over. It had a beginning, a middle, and an end. This is the end. You can say that things could have turned out differently. That they could have been some other way. But what does that mean? They are not some other way. They are this way. You're asking that I second say the world.

— Cormac McCarthy

I aint got all that many regrets. I could imagine lots of things that you might think would make a man happier. I think by the time you're grown you're as happy as you're goin to be. You'll have good times and bad times, but in the end you'll be about as happy as you was before. Or as unhappy. I've knowed people that just never did get the hang of it.

— Cormac McCarthy

All the time you spend tryin to get back what's been took from you there's more goin out the door. After a while you just try and get a tourniquet on it.

— Cormac McCarthy

You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from.

— Cormac McCarthy

I didnt 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.

— Cormac McCarthy

It's a life's work to see yourself for what you really are and even then you might be wrong.

— Cormac McCarthy

I don't aim to quit while I'm ahead. I just aim to quit.

— Cormac McCarthy

[W]hen you encounter certain things in the world, the evidence for certain things, you realize that you have come upon somethin that you may very well not be equal to and I think that this is one of them things. When you've said that it's real and not just in your head I'm not all that sure what it is you have said.

— Cormac McCarthy

There is no description of a fool, he said, that you fail to satisfy.

— Cormac McCarthy

White: I long for Darkness. I pray for death, real death. And if I thought that in death I would meet the people I knew in life, I don't know what I would do. That would be the ultimate horror, the ultimate nightmare. If I thought I was gonna meet my mother again an' start all of that over, only this time without the prospect of death to look forward to... that would be the final nightmare. Goddamn Kafka on wheels.

— Cormac McCarthy

White: You give up the world line by line. Stoically. And then one day you realize that your courage is farcical. It doesnt 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

I don't know what sort of world she will live in and I have no fixed opinions concerning how she should live in it. I only know that if she does not come to value what is true above what is useful, it will make little difference whether she lives at all.

— Cormac McCarthy

He never sleeps, the judge. He is dancing, dancing. He says that he will never die.

— Cormac McCarthy

The frailty of everything revealed at last. Old and troubling issues resolved into nothingness and night. The last instance of a thing takes the class with it. Turns out the light and is gone. Look around you. Ever is a long time. But the boy knew what he knew. That ever is no time at all.

— Cormac McCarthy

Keep a little fire burning; however small, however hidden.

— Cormac McCarthy

I remember in grammar school the teacher asked if anyone had any hobbies. I was the only one with any hobbies and I had every hobby there was... name anything, no matter how esoteric. I could have given everyone a hobby and still had 40 or 50 to take home.

— Cormac McCarthy

You think when you wake up in the mornin yesterday don't count. But yesterday is all that does count. What else is there? Your life is made out of the days it’s made out of. Nothin else.

— Cormac McCarthy

Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.

— Cormac McCarthy

Omul își caută propriul destin[...], destinul fiecaruia e la fel de mare ca lumea în care trăiește și conține în sine toate contradictiile. Deșertul ăsta unde atâția au căzut înfrânți e întins și cere o inimă mare, dar mai e și esențialmente gol. E aspru, e sterp. Natura lui adevărată e piatra.

— Cormac McCarthy

Can you do it? When the time comes? When the time comes there will be no time. Now is the time. Curse God and die. What if it doesn't fire? It has to fire. Could you crush that beloved skull with a rock?

— Cormac McCarthy

When we're all gone at last then there'll be nobody here but death and his days will be numbered too. He'll be out in the road there with nothing to do and nobody to do it to. He'll say: where did everybody go? And that's how it will be. What's wrong with that?

— Cormac McCarthy

There's no such thing as life without bloodshed. I think the notion that the species can be improved in some way, that everyone could live in harmony, is a really dangerous idea. Those who are afflicted with this notion are the first ones to give up their souls, their freedom. Your desire that it be that way will enslave you and make your life vacuous.

— Cormac McCarthy

I'm not interested in writing short stories. Anything that doesn't take years of your life and drive you to suicide hardly seems worth doing.

— Cormac McCarthy

I don't think goodness is something that you learn. If you're left adrift in the world to learn goodness from it, you would be in trouble.

— Cormac McCarthy

Yes, he said. I busted him and he busted me. That's fair, ain't it?No, Sylder went on, I ain't forgettin about jail. You think because he arrested me that throws it off again I reckon? I don't. It's his job. It's what he gets paid for. To arrest people that break the law. And I didn't jest break the law, I made a livin at it.

— Cormac McCarthy

In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments. Those whom life does not cure death will. The world is quite ruthless in selecting between the dream and reality, even where we will not. Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting. I've thought a great deal about my life and my country. I think there is little that can be truly known. My family has been fortunate. Others were less so. As they are often quick to point out.

— Cormac McCarthy

The man sat watching the road, the weedstem twirling in his mouth and the threadthin shadow of it going long and short upon his face like a sundial's hand beneath a sun berserk.

— Cormac McCarthy

And as he lay there a far crack of lightning went bluely down the sky and bequeathed him in an embryonic bird's first fissured vision of the world and transpiring instant and outrageous from dark to dark a final view of the grotto and the shapeless white plasm struggling upon the rich and incunabular moss like a lank swamp hare.

— Cormac McCarthy

Don't take in no strangers while I'm gone. She sighed deeply. They ain't a soul in this world but what is a stranger to me, she said.

— Cormac McCarthy

Yes mam. I'm sorry you've had such troubles. Mm-hmm. Sorry. Don’t need sorry. Not in this house. Sorry laid the hearth here. Sorry ways and sorry people and heavensent grief and heartache to make you pine for your death.

— Cormac McCarthy

And she waited again at the front door with it open, poised between the maw of the dead and loveless house and the outer dark like a frail thief.

— Cormac McCarthy

What discordant vespers do the tinker's goods chime through the long twilight and over the brindled forest road, him stooped and hounded through the windy recrements of the day like those old exiles who divorced of corporeality and enjoined ingress of heaven or hell wander forever the middle warrens spoorless increate and anathema.

— Cormac McCarthy

Now the entire herd had begun to wheel wider and faster along the bluff and the outermost ranks swung centrifugally over the escarpment row on row wailing and squealing and above this the howls and curses of the drovers that now upreared in the moil of flesh they tended and swept with dust had begun to assume satanic looks with their staves and wild eyes as if they were no true swineheards but disciples of darkness got among these charges to herd them to their doom.

— Cormac McCarthy

Don't flang him off the bluff, boys. Tain't christian.

— Cormac McCarthy

It's like a lot of things, said the smith. Do the least part of it wrong and ye'd just as well to do it all wrong. (p.71)

— Cormac McCarthy

Given charge Ballard would have made things more orderly in the woods and in men's souls. (p.128)

— Cormac McCarthy

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. (p.130)

— Cormac McCarthy

Whatever voice spoke to 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. (p.149)

— Cormac McCarthy

You think people was meaner then than they are now? the deputy said. The old man was looking out at the flooded town. No, he said, I don't. I think people are the same from the day God first made one. (p.158)

— Cormac McCarthy

In the long arcade of the bus station footfalls come back like laughter. He marches darkly toward his darkly marching shape in the glass of the depot door. His fetch come up from life's other side like an autoscopic hallucination, Suttree and Antisuttree, hand reaching to the hand.

— Cormac McCarthy

How surely are the dead beyond death. Death is what the living carry with them. A state of dread, like some uncanny foretaste of a bitter memory. But the dead do not remember and nothingness is not a curse. Far from it.

— Cormac McCarthy

Where hunters and woodcutters once slept in their boots by the dying light of their thousand fires and went on, old teutonic forebears with eyes incandesced by the visionary light of a massive rapacity, wave on wave of the violent and the insane, their brains stoked with spoorless analogues of all that was, lean aryans with their abrogate semitic chapbook reenacting the dramas and parables therein and mindless and pale with a longing that nothing save dark's total restitution could appease.

— Cormac McCarthy

Put away these frozenjawed primates and their annals of ways beset and ultimate dark. What deity in the realms of dementia, what rabid god decocted out of the smoking lobes of hydrophobia could have devised a keeping place for souls so poor as in this flesh. This mawky wormbent tabernacle.

— Cormac McCarthy

Pale manchild were there last agonies? Were you in terror, did you know? Could you feel the claw that claimed you? And who is this fool kneeling over your bones, choked with bitterness? And what could a child know of the darkness of God's plan? Or how flesh is so frail it is hardly more than a dream.

— Cormac McCarthy

He reached down and tapped Suttree's knee with his forefinger. You, my good buddy, are a fourteen carat gold plated son of a bitch. That's what your problem is. And that being your problem, there's not a whole lot of people in sympathy with you. Or with your problem.

— Cormac McCarthy

Somewhere in the gray wood by the river is the huntsman and in the brooming corn and in the castellated press of cities. His work lies all wheres and his hounds tire not. I have seen them in a dream, slaverous and wild and their eyes crazed with ravening for souls in this world. Fly them.

— Cormac McCarthy

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

— Cormac McCarthy

The survivors lay quietly in that cratered void and watched the whitehot stars go rifling down the dark. Or slept with their alien hearts beating in the sand like pilgrims exhausted upon the face of the planet Anareta, clutched to a namelessness wheeling in the night.

— Cormac McCarthy

All lightly shimmering in the heat, these lifeforms, like wonders much reduced. Rough likenesses thrown up at hearsay after the things themselves had faded in men’s minds.

— Cormac McCarthy

For this will to deceive that is in things luminous may manifest itself likewise in retrospect and so by sleight of some fixed part of a journey already accomplished may also post men to fraudulent destinies.

— Cormac McCarthy

And so these parties divided upon that midnight plain, each passing back the way the other had come, pursuing as all travelers must inversions without end upon other men’s journeys.

— Cormac McCarthy

For the Earth is a globe in a void the truth there's no up nor down to it.

— Cormac McCarthy

Whether in my book or not, every man is tabernacled in every other and he in exchange and so on in an endless complexity of being and witness to the uttermost edge of the world.

— Cormac McCarthy

They rode on. They rode like men invested with a purpose whose origins were antecedent to them, like blood legatees of an order both imperative and remote. For although each man among them was discrete unto himself, conjoined they made a thing that had not been before and in that communal soul were wastes hardly reckonable more than those whited regions on old maps where monsters do live and where there is nothing other of the known world save conjectural winds.

— 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

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

— Cormac McCarthy

...words were said that could not be put right again...

— Cormac McCarthy

...death seemed the most prevalent feature of the landscape.

— Cormac McCarthy

...and he is as eitherhanded as a spider,...

— Cormac McCarthy

People see what they want to see.

— Cormac McCarthy

...ingratitude is more common than you might think.

— Cormac McCarthy

How many is there, John?.Did you learn to whisper in a sawmill?

— Cormac McCarthy

I know your kind, he said. What’s wrong with you is wrong all the way through you.

— Cormac McCarthy

...he shook his head at the wonderful invention of folly in its guises and forms.

— Cormac McCarthy

The notion that the species can be improved in some way, that everyone could live in harmony, is a really dangerous idea. Those who are afflicted with this notion are the first ones to give up their souls, their freedom. Your desire that it be that way will enslave you and make your life vacuous.

— Cormac McCarthy

This is my child, he said. I wash a dead man's brains out of his hair. That is my job.

— Cormac McCarthy

The hour that followed was a long hour.

— Cormac McCarthy

...hacking at the dying and decapitating those who knelt for mercy.

— Cormac McCarthy

And the dreams so rich in color. How else would death call you? Waking in the cold dawn it all turned to ash instantly. Like certain ancient frescoes entombed for centuries suddenly exposed to the day.

— Cormac McCarthy

You can’t be all Mexican. It’s like being all mongrel.

— Cormac McCarthy

This is a terrible place to die in.Where’s a good one?

— Cormac McCarthy

I could have been somebody in this world wasn’t for him.

— Cormac McCarthy

What have you got that a man could drink with just a minimum risk of blindness and death.

— Cormac McCarthy

… and they watched the fire which does contain within it something of men themselves inasmuch as they are less without it and are divided from their origins and are exiles. For each fire is all fires, the first fire and the last ever to be.

— Cormac McCarthy

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

My book or some other book said the judge. What is to be deviates no jot from the book wherein it's writ. How could it? It would be a false book and a false book is no book at all.

— Cormac McCarthy

I can man anything that eats. Get me a piece of jerky. —John Joel Glanton.

— Cormac McCarthy

Jackson, pistols drawn, lurched into the street vowing to shoot the ass off Jesus Christ, the longlegged white son of a bitch.

— Cormac McCarthy

Men are made of the dust of the earth.

— Cormac McCarthy

What joins men together, he said, is not the sharing of bread but the sharing of enemies.

— Cormac McCarthy

What man would not be a dancer if he could, said the judge. It’s a great thing, the dance.

— Cormac McCarthy

Where is yesterday? … And where is the fiddler and where is the dance?

— Cormac McCarthy

The judge looked about him. He was sat before the fire naked save for his breeches and his hands rested palm down upon his knees. His eyes were empty slots. None among the company harbored any notion as to what this attitude implied, yet so like an icon was he in his sitting that they grew cautious and spoke with circumspection among themselves as if they would not waken something that had better been left sleeping.

— Cormac McCarthy

The judge placed his hands on the ground. He looked at his inquisitor. This is my claim, he said. And yet everywhere upon it are pockets of autonomous life. Autonomous. In order for it to be mine nothing must be permitted to occur upon it save by my dispensation.

— Cormac McCarthy

Toadvine sat with his boots crossed before the fire. No man can acquaint himself with everything on this earth, he said.

— Cormac McCarthy

Whatever exists, he [the judge] said. Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent.

— Cormac McCarthy

Only nature can enslave man and only when the existence of each last entity is routed out and made to stand naked before him will he be properly suzerain of the earth. — The judge

— Cormac McCarthy

Because he is a special kind of keeper. A suzerain rules even where there are other rulers. His authority countermands local judgments. — The judge.

— Cormac McCarthy

The judge tilted his great head. The man who believes that the secrets of this 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

The freedom of birds is an insult to me. I'd have them all in zoos. — The judge.

— Cormac McCarthy

His among the clouded faces seemed unperturbed. He looked over the Americans, their gear. In truth, they did not look like men who might have whiskey they hadn't drunk.

— Cormac McCarthy

The arc of circling bodies is determined by the length of their tether, said the judge. Moons, coins, men. His hands moved as if he were pulling something from one fist in a series of elongations. Watch the coin, Davey, he said.

— Cormac McCarthy

It makes no difference what men think of war, said the judge. War endures. As well ask men what they think of stone. War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner. That is the way it was and will be. That way and not some other way.

— Cormac McCarthy

War is the ultimate game because war is at last a forcing of the unity of existence. War is god. — The judge

— Cormac McCarthy

Notions of chance and fate are the preoccupations of men engaged in rash undertakings.

— Cormac McCarthy

Moral law is an invention of mankind for the disenfranchisement of the powerful in favor of the weak. Historical law subverts it at every turn. A moral view can never be proven right or wrong by any ultimate test. A man falling dead in a duel is not thought thereby to be proven in error as to his views. His very involvement in such a trial gives evidence of a new and broader view. — The judge

— Cormac McCarthy

Drink up, he said. Drink up. This night thy soul may be required of thee. — The judge

— Cormac McCarthy

....A goodlookin horse is like a goodlookin woman, he said. They’re always more trouble than what they’re worth. What a man needs is just one that will get the job done.

— Cormac McCarthy

You think about all that stuff that can happen to you, he said. There aint no end to it.

— Cormac McCarthy

He said we were full of shit. But in a nice way.

— Cormac McCarthy

When they went down to the bunkhouse for dinner the vaqueros seemed to treat them with a certain deference but whether it was the deference accorded the accomplished or that accorded to mental defectives they were unsure.

— Cormac McCarthy

Word gets around when the circus comes to town, dont it?

— Cormac McCarthy

What good do you think it does to waller all over a horse thataway? said Rawlins.I dont know, said John Grady. I aint a horse.

— Cormac McCarthy

The old man … said … the notion that men can be understood was probably an illusion.

— Cormac McCarthy

I dont see you holdin no aces.

— Cormac McCarthy

I never knowed there was such a place as this.I guess there’s probably every kind of place you can think of.

— Cormac McCarthy

Anybody can be a pendejo, said John Grady. That just means asshole.

— Cormac McCarthy

You are the oveja negre, no? The black sheep?

— Cormac McCarthy

He lay in the dark thinking of all the things he did not know about his father and he realised that the father he knew was all the father he would ever know.

— Cormac McCarthy

It is not my experience that life’s difficulties make people more charitable.

— Cormac McCarthy

She came from the shower wrapped in a towel and she sat on the bed and took his hand and looked down at him. I cannot do what you ask, she said. I love you. But I cannot. He saw very clearly how all his life led only to this moment and all after led nowhere at all. He felt something cold and soulless enter him like another being and he imagined that it smiled malignly and he had no reason to believe that it would ever leave.

— Cormac McCarthy

Where is your country? he said.I don't know, said John Grady. I don't know where it is. I don't know what happens to country.

— Cormac McCarthy