He in the limbo of the Christless righteous, I in a terrestrial hell.
Cormac McCarthyIt had grown cold in the night but he was numb with other weathers. An equinox in the heart, ill change, unluck. Suttree held his face in his hands. Child of darkness and familiar of small dooms. He himself used to wake in terror to find whole congregations of the uninvited attending his bed, protean figures slouched among the room's dark corners in all multiplicity of shapes, gibbons and gargoyles, arachnoids of outrageous size, a batshaped creature hung by some cunning in a high corner from whence clicked and winked like bone chimes its incandescent teeth.
Cormac McCarthyWhat you put in your head is there forever.
Cormac McCarthyThey trekked out along the crescent sweep of beach, keeping to the firmer sand below the tidewrack. They stood, their clothes flapping softly. Glass floats covered with a gray crust. The bones of seabirds. At the tideline a woven mat of weeds and the ribs of fishes in their millions stretching along the shore as far as the eye could see like an isocline of death. One vast salt sepulchre. Senseless. Senseless.
Cormac McCarthyI like what I do. Some writers have said in print that they hated writing and it was just a chore and a burden. I certainly don't feel that way about it. Sometimes it's difficult. You know, you always have this image of the perfect thing which you can never achieve, but which you never stop trying to achieve. But I think ... that's your signpost and your guide. You'll never get there, but without it you won't get anywhere.
[Interview with Oprah Winfrey, June 5, 2007]
Tag: goals fiction creative-process novels perfection guidance writing-life writing-process
Out of that whirlwind no voice spoke and the pilgrim lying in his broken bones may cry out and in his anguish he may rage, but rage at what? And if the dried and blackened shell of him is found among the sands by travelers to come yet who can discover the engine of his ruin?
Cormac McCarthyI don't see you holdin no aces.
Cormac McCarthyI'd rather to make a good run as a bad stand.
Cormac McCarthyHe tried to read her heart in her handclasp but he knew nothing.
Cormac McCarthyHe looked into those blue eyes like a man seeking some vision of the increate future of the universe.
Cormac McCarthyTag: love
« prima precedente
Pagina 51 di 69.
prossimo ultimo »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.