Quotes by Cormac McCarthy

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

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

When were all gone at last then therell be nobody here but death and his days will be numbered too. Hell be out in the road there with nothing to do and nobody to do it to. Hell say: where did everybody go? And thats how it will be. Whats wrong with that?

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 doesnt fire? It has to fire. Could you crush that beloved skull with a rock?

The dead boy in his arms hung with his head back and those partly opened eyes beheld nothing at all out of that passing landscape of street or wall or paling sky or the figures of the children who stood blessing themselves in the gray light. This man and his burden passed on forever out of that nameless crossroads and the women stepped once more into the street and the children followed and all continued on to their appointed places which as some believe were chosen long ago even to the beginning of the world.

I dont know why I started writing. I dont know why anybody does it. Maybe theyre bored, or failures at something else.

You are either born a writer or you are not.

My perfect day is sitting in a room with some blank paper. Thats heaven. Thats gold and anything else is just a waste of time.

Creative work is often driven by pain. It may be that if you dont have something in the back of your head driving you nuts, you may not do anything. Its not a good arrangement. If I were God, I wouldnt have done it that way., Nov. 20, 2009]

There is no God and we are his prophets.

Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent.

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 the reality even where we will not. Between the wish and the thing, the world lies waiting.

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

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.

What is it?Nothing. I had a bad dream.What did you dream about?Nothing.Are you okay?No.He put his arms around him and held him. Its okay, he said.I was crying. But you didnt wake up.Im sorry. I was just so tired.I meant in the dream.

Ah, they said. Qué bueno. And after and for a long time to come hed have reason to evoke the recollection of those smiles and to reflect upon the good will which provoked them for it had power to protect and to confer honor and to strengthen resolve and it had power to hear men and to bring them to safety long after all other resources were exhausted.

In the end we all come to be cured of our sentiments. Those whom life does not cure death will.

I dont believe knowing can save us. What isconstant 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.

War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner.

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.