Nicola

“The mountain road brick-red of dust laced with lizard tracks, coming up through the peach orchard, hot, windless, cloistral in a silence of no birds save one vulture hung in the smokeblue void of the sunless mountainside, rocking on the high updrafts, and the road turning and gated with bullbriers waxed and green, and the green cadaver grin sealed in the murky waters of the peach pit, slimegreen skull with newts coiled in the eyesockets and a wig of moss.”
― Cormac McCarthy, The Orchard Keeper

“Mr Suttree in what year did your greatuncle Jeffrey pass away?
It was in 1884.
Did he die by natural causes?
No sir.
And what were the circumstances surrounding his death?
He was taking part in a public function when the platform gave way.
Our information is that he was hanged for a homicide.”
― Cormac McCarthy, Suttree

“Yet (moment by painful moment, breath by painful breath) one got through things.”
― Donna Tartt

“The point of books was to combat loneliness”
― David Lipsky, Although of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself: A Road Trip with David Foster Wallace