The Lonesome Dove Series

by Larry McMurtry

“The tragedy of man is not death or epidemic or lust or rage or fitful jealousy,” he said loudly—his voice tended to rise while declaiming unpleasant facts. “No sir, the tragedy of man is boredom, sir—boredom!” the Captain said.

“Why, then, nothing, Lee,” Gus said. “I guess we can all sit around and watch that French pig eat snakes.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t be renting no pigs, couldn’t afford to, Dan,” he said. “It might lead to lawsuits.”

“It may be over but it wasn’t fun,” Call said, looking at the long dry distance that still waited to be crossed.

It made all his trying, his work and discipline, seem fraudulent, and caused him to wonder if his life had made sense at all.

“Why’s he crying?” Betsey asked. “He’s just unnerved—he’s come along a long way and I imagine he had stopped expecting to make it,” Clara said. “But he’s a man,” Sally said.

He liked to watch the boy with the horses; it had become a keen pleasure.

He felt he had failed in all he had tried to

“No, I ain’t kin to nobody in this world,” Newt said bitterly. “I don’t want to be. I won’t be.”