The Crossing (The Border Trilogy, #2)

by Cormac McCarthy

It was his view rather that every act soon eluded the grasp of its propagator to be swept away in a clamorous tide of unforeseen consequence.

said that as far as that went there were certainly other dangers to a journey than losing one’s way. He said that plans were one thing and journeys another.

while it was true that time heals bereavement it does so only at the cost of the slow extinction of those loved ones from the heart’s memory which is the sole place of their abode then or now. Faces fade, voices dim. Seize them back, whispered the sepulturero. Speak with them. Call their names. Do this and do not let sorrow die for it is the sweetening of every gift.