Top 36 The Road Mccarthy Quotes
#1. When he reached the fence he stopped for a moment to look back at the road and then he went on, crossing into a field of rank weeds that heeled with harsh dip and clash under the wind as if fled through by something unseen.
Cormac McCarthy
#2. The books I love most are the ones that combine some sort of gripping story with really beautiful or stylish writing. Some of my favorites are 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy, 'The Virgin Suicides' by Jeffrey Eugenides, 'The Interpreter of Maladies' by Jhumpa Lahiri, and 'Blindness' by Jose Saramago.
Karen Thompson Walker
#3. The faint light all about, quivering and sourceless, refracted in the rain of drifting soot.
Cormac McCarthy
#4. The shape of the city stood in the grayness like a charcoal drawing sketched across the waste.
Cormac McCarthy
#5. On this road there are no godspoke men. They are gone and I am left and they have taken with them the world.
Cormac McCarthy
#6. Suppose you were the last one left? Suppose you did that to yourself?
Cormac McCarthy
#7. The kind of stuff I usually read is a bit more on the literary side, like books that I think are influential in the sense that they're doing pulpy subject matter in a refined way. Like 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy; I loved that book.
Isaac Marion
#9. No one has a name in 'The Road.' Like Cormac McCarthy's novel from which it's adapted, 'The Road' features characters such as the man, the boy, the wife, the old man and the veteran.
Garret Dillahunt
#10. Where all was burnt to ash before them no fires were to be had and the nights were long and dark and cold beyond anything they'd yet encountered. Cold to crack the stones. To take your life.
Cormac McCarthy
#11. I just love the thrill of performing on stage. I believe that singing is something I was put here to do.
Lucy Hale
#12. After the gratifications of brutish appetites are past, the greatest pleasure then is to get rid of that which entertained it.
Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra
#13. 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
#14. People love to do such things, attempting to degrade other individuals for their mistakes to fulfill their inner will in order to feel more noteworthy.
Aditi Dufare
#15. There's something in the act of setting out that renews me, that fills me with a feeling of possibility. On the road, I'm forced to rely on instinct and intuition, on the kindness of strangers, in ways that illuminate who I am, ways that shed light on my motivations, my fears.
Andrew McCarthy
#16. His mind was betraying him. Phantoms not heard from in a thousand years rousing slowly from their sleep.
Cormac McCarthy
#17. It took two days to cross that ashen scabland. The road beyond fell away on every side. It's snowing, the boy said. He looked at the sky. A single gray flake sifting down. He caught it in his hand and watched it expire there like the last host of christendom.
Cormac McCarthy
#18. What's the bravest thing you ever did?
He spat in the road a bloody phlegm. Getting up this morning, he said.
Cormac McCarthy
#19. He walked to the top of a rise and crouched and watched the day accrue. The chary dawn, the cold illucid world.
Cormac McCarthy
#21. There is no such joy in the tavern as upon the road thereto.
Cormac McCarthy
#22. After tea it's back to painting - a large poplar at dusk with a gathering storm. From time to time instead of this evening painting session I go bowling in one of the neighbouring villages, but not very often.
Gustav Klimt
#23. A forest fire was making its way along the tinderbox ridges above them, flaring and shimmering against the overcast like the northern lights. Cold as it was he stood there a long time. The color of it moved something in him long forgotten. Make a list. Recite a litany. Remember.
Cormac McCarthy
#24. 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
#25. In the draws the smoke coming off the ground like mist and the thin black trees burning on the slopes like heathen candles.
Cormac McCarthy
#27. There's too much shit still down the road that I got to deal with. It aint goin to end here.
Cormac McCarthy
#28. Dwindling slowly on the road behind him like some storybook peddler from an antique time, dark and bent and spider thin and soon to vanish forever.
Cormac McCarthy
#29. I have a strong feeling for it, and I think us as humans perceive all of that - the pressure change and the moon and the wind and whether a storm is moving in on us - if we just are close enough to nature.
Dean Potter
#30. He'd stop and lean on the cart and the boy would go on and then stop and look back and he would raise his weeping eyes and see him standing there in the road looking back at him from some unimaginable future, glowing in that waste like a tabernacle.
Cormac McCarthy
#31. He: I want you to write a love story
She: About?
He: About a boy for whom a girl wasn't his soulmate, but she was his soul- the one who kept him alive.
She: And what should I call it?
He: Just name it our love story
Namrata
#33. To see that your life is a story while you're in the middle of living it may be a help to living it well.
Ursula K. Le Guin
#34. The reality is, if you're going to have a defeat on the road, Week 1 is probably the best time to have it.
Mike McCarthy
#35. In the dark glass where the road poured down their cigarettes rose and fell like distant semaphores above the soft green dawn of the dashlights.
Cormac McCarthy
#36. Remember that the worst accidents occur in the middle of the road.
Eugene McCarthy
