The crushing black vacuum of the universe. And somewhere two hunted animals trembling like ground-foxes in their cover. Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.
The cooler days have brought a wistful mood upon him. The smell of coalsmoke in the air at night. Old times, dead years. For him such memories are bitter ones.
The boy who rode on slightly before him sat a horse not only as if he'd been born to it which he was but as if were he begot by malice or mischance into some queer land where horses never were he woul...
The Apache wrenched his pony's head around and when Glanton spun to look at his men he found them frozen in deadlock with the savages, they and their arms wired into a construction taut and fragile as...
That all courage was a form of constancy. That it was always himself that the coward abandoned first. After this all other betrayals came easily. I
Ten thousand dreams ensepulchred within their crozzled hearts.
Spectre horsemen, pale with dust, anonymous in the crenellated heat. Above all else they appeared wholly at venture, primal, provisional, devoid of order. Like beings provoked out of the absolute rock...
Shrouded in the black thunderheads the distant lightning glowed mutely like welding seen through foundry smoke. As if repairs were under way at some flawed place n the iron dark of the world
She was gone and the coldness of it was her final gift. She would do it with a flake of obsidian. He'd taught her himself. Sharper than steel. The edge an atom thick. And she was right. There was no a...
She smiled and sipped from her glass. There was altogether too much of her sitting there, the broad expanse of thigh cradled in the insubstantial stocking and the garters with the pale flesh pursed an...
She said that the breath of God was his breath yet though it pass from man to man through all of time. Once
She patted his hand. Gnarled, ropescarred, speckled from the sun and the years of it. The ropy veins that bound them to his heart. There was map enough for men to read. There God's plenty of signs and...
Qual es lo peor: Que soy pobre o que soy americano?
Pero con todo existe un solo mundo y todo cuanto uno pueda imaginar le es necesario. Pues también este mundo que a nosotros nos parece hecho de piedras y flores y sangre no es en absoluto una cosa sin...
My daddy used to tell me not to chew on somethin that was eatin you. Yessir.
Mr Suttree in what year did your greatuncle Jeffrey pass away?It was in 1884.Did he die by natural causes?No sir.And what were the circumstances surrounding his death?He was taking part in a public fu...
Mi sono sempre chiesta se la piega presa dalla nostra vita esiste fin dall'inizio se invece la vita è fatta di eventi casuali nei quali individuiamo un filo solo a posteriori
Men imagine that the choices before them are theirs to make. But we are free to act only upon what is given. Choice is lost in the maze of generations and each act in that mazeis itself an enslavement...
Look around you, he said. There is no prophet in the earth's long chronicle who's not honored here today. Whatever form you spoke of you were right.
Lejos, en la llanura, en la noche sin orilla, podían ver como en un reflejo de su propio fuego en un lago oscuro el fuego de los vaqueros a unos ocho kilómetros. Por la noche llovió y la lluvia silbó...