„Ich kann nicht anders.“
— Cormac McCarthy
The Sunset Limited
Zitate von Cormac McCarthy
4 0Cormac McCarthy
Geburtstag: 20. Juli 1933
Andere Namen:کورمک مککارتی
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Cormac McCarthy ist ein US-amerikanischer Roman-Autor. McCarthy wurde unter anderem mit dem Pulitzer-Preis und dem National Book Award ausgezeichnet.
Zitate Cormac McCarthy
„Was ist das höchste, dass du je beim Münze-werfen verloren hast?“
— Cormac McCarthy
No Country for Old Men
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„Soll ich dir eine Geschichte erzählen?
Nein.
Warum nicht?
Der Junge sah ihn an und wandte den Blick ab.
Warum nicht?
Diese Geschichten sind nicht wahr.
Das müssen sie auch nicht sein. Es sind Geschichten.
Ja. Aber in den Geschichten helfen wir andauernd jemanden, dabei tun wir das in Wirklichkeit gar nicht.
Warum erzählst du mir nicht eine Geschichte?
Ich will nicht.
Okay.
Ich habe keine Geschichten zu erzählen.
Du könntest mir eine Geschichte über dich selbst erzählen.
Die Geschichten über mich kennst du alle. Du warst dabei.
Du hast Geschichten in deinem Inneren, von denen ich nichts weiß.
Du meinst, so was wie Träume?
Ja. Oder einfach Sachen, über die du nachdenkst.
Ja, aber Geschichten sollen doch schön sein.
Nicht unbedingt.
Du erzählst immer schöne Geschichten.
Kennst du denn keine schönen?
Meine haben mehr mit dem wirklichen Leben zu tun.
Und meine nicht?
Deine nicht. Nein.
Der Mann betrachtete ihn. Und das wirkliche Leben ist ziemlich übel?
Was denkst du denn?
Tja, ich denke, es gibt uns noch. Es sind viele schlimme Sachen passiert, aber es gibt uns immer noch.
Ja.
Du findest das nicht so toll.
Es ist okay.“
— Cormac McCarthy
The Road
„You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from.“
— Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men
„Scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.“
— Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses
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„Whatever exists, he [the judge] said. Whatever in creation exists without my knowledge exists without my consent.“
— Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian, or the Evening Redness in the West
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„He imagined the pain of the world to be like some formless parasitic being seeking out the warmth of human souls wherein to incubate and he thought he knew what made one liable to its visitations. What he had not known was that it was mindless and so had no way to know the limits of those souls and what he feared was that there might be no limits.“
— Cormac McCarthy
Context: He lay listening to the horse crop the grass at his stakerope and he listened to the wind in the emptiness and watched stars trace the arc of the hemisphere and die in the darkness at the edge of the world and as he lay there the agony in his heart was like a stake. He imagined the pain of the world to be like some formless parasitic being seeking out the warmth of human souls wherein to incubate and he thought he knew what made one liable to its visitations. What he had not known was that it was mindless and so had no way to know the limits of those souls and what he feared was that there might be no limits.
„He thought the world's heart beat at some terrible cost and that the world's pain and its beauty moved in a relationship of diverging equity and that in this headlong deficit the blood of multitudes might ultimately be exacted for the vision of a single flower.“
— Cormac McCarthy
Context: He remembered Alejandra and the sadness he'd first seen in the slope of her shoulders which he'd presumed to understand and of which he knew nothing and he felt a loneliness he'd not known since he was a child and he felt wholly alien to the world although he loved it still. He thought that in the beauty of the world were hid a secret. He thought the world's heart beat at some terrible cost and that the world's pain and its beauty moved in a relationship of diverging equity and that in this headlong deficit the blood of multitudes might ultimately be exacted for the vision of a single flower.
„You think when you wake up in the mornin yesterday dont count. But yesterday is all that does count. What else is there? Your life is made out of the days it's made out of. Nothin else.“
— Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men
Context: You think when you wake up in the mornin yesterday dont count. But yesterday is all that does count. What else is there? Your life is made out of the days it's made out of. Nothin else. You might think you could run away and change your name and I dont know what all. Start over. And then one mornin you wake up and look at the ceilin and guess who's layin there?
„Between the wish and the thing the world lies waiting.“
— Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses
