Paige Braddock > Paige's Quotes

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  • #1
    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 sun in their running. 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.”
    Cormac McCarthy, The Road

  • #2
    Cormac McCarthy
    “Truth has no temperature.”
    Cormac McCarthy, The Counsellor

  • #3
    Charles M. Schulz
    “All you need is love. But a little chocolate now and then doesn't hurt.”
    Charles M. Schulz

  • #4
    Flannery O'Connor
    “Only if we are secure in our beliefs can we see the comical side of the universe.”
    Flannery O'Connor

  • #5
    Bill Watterson
    “I won't eat any cereal that doesn't turn the milk purple.”
    Bill Watterson, The Authoritative Calvin and Hobbes: A Calvin and Hobbes Treasury

  • #6
    John Keats
    “I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the Heart's affections and the truth of the Imagination.”
    John Keats

  • #7
    James Agee
    “We are talking now of summer evenings in Knoxville Tennessee in the time that I lived there so successfully disguised to myself as a child.”
    James Agee, A Death in the Family

  • #8
    James Agee
    “And somewhat as in blind night, on a mild sea, a sailor may be made aware of an iceberg, fanged and mortal, bearing invisibly near, by the unwarned charm of its breath, nothingness now revealed itself: that permanent night upon which the stars in their expiring generations are less than the glinting of gnats, and nebulae, more trivial than winter breath; that darkness in which eternity lies bent and pale, a dead snake in a jar, and infinity is the sparkling of a wren blown out to sea; that inconceivable chasm of invulnerable silence in which cataclysms of galaxies rave mute as amber.”
    James Agee, A Death in the Family

  • #9
    James Agee
    “And a human being whose life is nurtured in an advantage which has accrued from the disadvantage of other human beings, and who prefers that this should remain as it is, is a human being by definition only, having much more in common with the bedbug, the tapeworm, the cancer, and the scavengers of the deep sea.”
    James Agee, Cotton Tenants: Three Families

  • #10
    James Agee
    “For in the immediate world, everything is to be discerned, for him who can discern it, and central and simply, without either dissection into science, or digestion into art, but with the whole of consciousness, seeking to perceive it as it stands: so that the aspect of a street in sunlight can roar in the heart of itself as a symphony, perhaps as no symphony can: and all of consciousness is shifted from the imagined, the revisive, to the effort to perceive simply the cruel radiation of what is.”
    James Agee, Let Us Now Praise Famous Men

  • #11
    James Agee
    “By some chance, here they are, all on this earth; and who shall ever tell the sorrow of being on this earth, lying, on quilts, on the grass, in a summer evening, among the sounds of the night. May God bless my people, my uncle, my aunt, my mother, my good father, oh, remember them kindly in their time of trouble; and in the hour of their taking away.

    After a little I am taken in and put to bed. Sleep, soft smiling, draws me unto her: and those receive me, who quietly treat me, as one familiar and well-beloved in that home: but will not, oh, will not, not now, not ever; but will not ever tell me who I am.”
    James Agee, A Death in the Family

  • #12
    Cormac McCarthy
    “Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting.”
    Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

  • #13
    Cormac McCarthy
    “Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
    Cormac McCarthy, The Road

  • #14
    Cormac McCarthy
    “War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner.”
    Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian, or, the Evening Redness in the West

  • #15
    Cormac McCarthy
    “The truth about the world, he said, is that anything is possible. Had you not seen it all from birth and thereby bled it of its strangeness it would appear to you for what it is, a hat trick in a medicine show, a fevered dream, a trance bepopulate with chimeras having neither analogue nor precedent, an itinerant carnival, a migratory tentshow whose ultimate destination after many a pitch in many a mudded field is unspeakable and calamitous beyond reckoning.

    The universe is no narrow thing and the order within it is not constrained by any latitude in its conception to repeat what exists in one part in any other part. Even in this world more things exist without our knowledge than with it and the order in creation which you see is that which you have put there, like a string in a maze, so that you shall not lose your way. For existence has its own order and that no man's mind can compass, that mind itself being but a fact among others.”
    Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian, or, the Evening Redness in the West

  • #16
    Joan Didion
    “…quite simply, I was in love with New York. I do not mean "love" in any colloquial way, I mean that I was in love with the city, the way you love the first person who ever touches you and you never love anyone quite that way again. I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring, or the second spring, they were all alike for a while. I was late to meet someone but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it and knew that I had come out out of the West and reached the mirage. I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later—because I did not belong there, did not come from there”
    Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem



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