The gifts of the Almighty are weighed and parceled out in a scale peculiar to himself. It's no fair accountin… — Cormac McCarthy
The gifts of the Almighty are weighed and parceled out in a scale peculiar to himself. It's no fair accountin and I dont doubt but what he'd be the first to admit it and you put the query to him boldface.
p. 129Source: Wikiquote · CC BY-SA 4.0
More from this book
Spanish: "People say the coyote is a witch. Most of the time, the witch is a coyote."
p. 75
Where is yesterday? Where is Glanton and Brown and where is the priest? He leaned closer. Where is Shelby, whom you left to the mercies of Elias in the desert, and where is Tate whom you abandoned in the mountains? Where the ladies, ah the fair and tender ladies with whom you danced at the governor's ball when you were a hero anointed with the blood of the enemies of the republic you'd elected to defend? And where is the fiddler and where the dance?
p. 344
This is a terrible place to die in.
Where’s a good one?
p. 217
