“ Perhaps the greatest charm of tramp-life is the absence of monotony. In Hobo Land the face of life is protean—an ever changing phantasmagoria, where the impossible happens and the unexpected jumps out… Jack London
“ En sus sueños su pálida novia iba hacia él desde una verde bóveda de ramas. Sus pezones como de marga y sus costillas pintadas de blanco. Llevaba un vestido de gasa y sus cabellos oscuros estaban reco… Cormac McCarthy
“ Se quedó escuchando el goteo del agua en el bosque. Lecho rocoso, este. El frío y el silencio. Las cenizas del mundo difunto trajinadas de acá para allá por los crudos y transitorios vientos en el vac… Cormac McCarthy
“ He walked to the top of a rise and crouched and watched the day accrue. The chary dawn, the cold illucid world. Cormac McCarthy
“ 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… Cormac McCarthy
“ The mummied dead everywhere. The flesh cloven along the bones, the ligaments dried to tug and taut as wires. Shriveled and drawn like latterday bogfolk, their faces of boiled sheeting, the yellowed pa… Cormac McCarthy
“ Pe-acest drum nu mai e nici un suflet de om de la care să auzi vorba Domnului. S-au dus, iar eu am rămas și ei au luat cu ei lumea. Întrebare: prin ce se deosebește ce nu va fi niciodată de ce nu a fo… Cormac McCarthy
“ Ella se marchó y la frialdad de la partida fue su regalo final. Lo haría con una hojuela de obsidiana. Él mismo le había enseñado cómo. Más afilada que el acero. El borde de un grosor de átomo. Y ella… Cormac McCarthy
“ He watched him stoke the flames, God's own firedrake. The sparks rushed upward and died in the starless dark. Not all dying words are true and this blessing is no less real for being shorn of its grou… Cormac McCarthy
“ 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
“ Polished round and smooth as marbles or lozenges of stone veined andstriped. Black disclets and bits of polished quartz all bright from the mist off theriver. Cormac McCarthy
“ He rose and stood tottering in that cold dark with his arms held out for balance while the vestibular calculations in his skull cranked out their reckonings. An old chronicle. To seek out the upright.… Cormac McCarthy
“ His mind was betraying him. Phantoms not heard from in a thousand years rousing slowly from their sleep. Cormac McCarthy
“ 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
“ To seek out the upright. No fall butpreceded by a declination. He took great marching steps into the nothingness,counting them against his return. Eyes closed, arms oaring. Upright to what?Something n… Cormac McCarthy
“ He walked out in the gray light and stood and he saw for a brief moment the absolute truth of the world. The cold relentless circling of the intestate earth. Darkness implacable. The blind dogs of the… Cormac McCarthy
“ Siddhartha wants liberation, Dante wants Beatrice, Frodo wants to get to Mount Doom—we all want something. Quest is elemental to the human experience. All road narratives are to some extent built on q… Vanessa Veselka
