Cormac McCarthy Quotes

Pull a string, a puppet moves ... each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job, the front tire, the bed, the walls, the room; all our necessities including love, rest on foundations of sand - and any given cause, no matter how unrelated: the death of a boy in Hong Kong or a blizzard in Omaha ... can serve as your undoing. all your chinaware crashing to the kitchen floor, your girl will enter and you'll be standing, drunk, in the center of it and she'll ask: my god, what's the matter? and you'll answer: I don't know, I don't know.

The on­ly thing I know is ev­ery­thing you love will die.

All human things Of dearest value hang on slender strings.

What, if as said, man is a bubble.

This world's a bubble.

It's so easy for all the success in the world to suddenly end, and I'm quite aware of that.

Nothing lasts. Not even a great sorrow.

Oh, how quickly things changed! Why didn't happiness last for ever? For ever wasn't a bit too long.

This life of ours...human life is like a flower gloriously blooming in a meadow: along comes a goat, eats it up---no more flower.

Nothing lasts-not even pain.

Life is a toy made of glass; it appears to be of inestimable price, but in reality it is very cheap.

I should not have loved my daughter as I did. Not in this world in which nothing lives for long. You children are flies. You are roses. You multiply and die.

Nothing endures. Not a tree. Not love. Not even death by violence.

All good things in life are fragile and easily lost

She looks like a china doll, observed Grandfather as we departed. I will break just as easily, I muttered.

I can see the beauty of glass objects fully at the moment when they slip from my hand

Everything had shattered. The fact that it was all still there — the walls and the chairs and the children’s pictures on the walls — meant nothing. Every atom of it had been blasted apart and reconstituted in an instant, and its appearance of permanence and solidity was laughable; it would dissolve at a touch, for everything was suddenly tissue-thin and friable.

I think, that if I touched the earth, It would crumble; It is so sad and beautiful, So tremulously like a dream.

Security is elusive. It's impossible. We all die. We all get old. We all get sick. People leave us. People change us. Nothing is secure.

White means the strength of fragility and the fragility of the passage of time.

Even Castles made of sand, fall into the sea, eventually.

A human being is only breath and shadow.

I do have a sense of displacement as constant instability - the uninterrupted existence of everything that I love and care about is not guaranteed at all. I wait for catastrophes.

Alas for the affairs of men! When they are fortunate you might compare them to a shadow; and if they are unfortunate, a wet sponge with one dash wipes the picture away.

I do have a sense, and I've never not had it, of how easily things can vanish.