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...
If you knew there was somebody out there afoot that had two million dollars of your money, at what point would you quit lookin for em?That's right. There aint no such a point.
If you dont respect me what must you think of yourself?
If he is not the word of God God never spoke.
I know all the people I want to know.
He thought that in the history of the world it might even be that there was more punishment than crime but he took small comfort from it.
He said that like every man who comes to the end of something there was nothing to be done but to begin again.
Do you think I lie to you?No.But you think I might lie to you about dying.Yes.Okay. I might. But we're not dying.Okay.
Buddy when he come back from up in the panhandle told me one time it quit blowin up there and all the chickens fell over.
A rich smell of woodsmoke hung over the road.
They camped that night on the foreplain at the foot of a talus slope and the murder that had been reckoned upon took place.
His other few possessions lay about in the grotto where chance had arranged them.
¿Has pensado alguna vez en la muerte?Sí. A veces. ¿Y tú?Sí. A veces. ¿Crees que existe un cielo?Sí. ¿Tú no?No lo sé. Quizá sí. ¿Crees que puedes creer en el cielo si no crees en el infierno?Creo que p...
Like most men skilled at their work they were scornful of any least suggestion of knowing anything not learned at first hand.
You don't know shit from apple butter.
When the Papayuna is pining you need to call home.
This place aint the same. It never will be. Maybe we've all got a little crazy. I guess if everbody went crazy together nobody would notice, what do you think?
This is a terrible place to die in.Where's a good one?
They rode in a narrow enfillade along a trail strewn with the dry round turds of goats and they rode with their faces averted from the rock wall and the bakeoven air which it rebated, the slant black...
They rode for days through the rain and they rode through rain and hail and rain again. In that gray storm light they crossed a flooded plain with the footed shapes of the horses reflected in the wate...