literary remarks

[literaryremarks]

Time must be drawing down for me, but I don't feel it. I feel immortal. Once when I was very young I felt mortal—but not any more. Death has receded. He wondered if this were a normal way to feel.

East of Eden, John Steinbeck

[literaryremarks]

Do you think there might be crows somewhere? I don’t know. But what do you think? I think it’s unlikely. Could they fly to Mars or someplace? No. They couldnt. Because it’s too far? Yes. Even if they wanted to. Even if they wanted to. What if they tried and they just got half way or something and then they were too tired. Would they fall back down? Well. They really couldnt get half way because they’d be in space and there’s not any air in space so they wouldnt be able to fly and besides it would be too cold and they’d freeze to death. Oh. Anyway they wouldnt know where Mars was. Do we know where Mars is? Sort of. If we had a spaceship could we go there? Well if you had a really good spaceship and you had people to help you I suppose you could go. Would there be food and stuff when you got there? No. There’s nothing there. Oh. They sat for a long time. They sat on their folded blankets and watched the road in both directions. No wind. Nothing. After a while the boy said: There’s not any crows. Are there? No. Just in books. Yes. Just in books. I didnt think so.

The Road, Cormac McCarthy

[literaryremarks]

He sat there for a long time and after a while the east did gray and after a while the right and godmade sun did rise, once again, for all and without distinction.

The Crossing, Cormac McCarthy

[literaryremarks]

The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.

On the Road, Jack Kerouac

[literaryremarks]

We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.

Four Quartets, T. S. Eliot

[literaryremarks]

Isn't it pretty to think so?

The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway