He thought each memory recalled must do some violence to its origins. — The Road

"No lists of things to be done. The day providential to itself. The hour. There is no later. This is later. All things of grace and beauty such that one holds them to ones heart have a common provenance in pain. Their birth in grief and ashes. So, he whispered to the sleeping boy. I have you."

"And perhaps beyond those shrouded swells another man did walk with another child on the dead gray sands. Slept but a sea apart on another beach among the bitter ashes of the world or stood in their rags lost to the same indifferent sun."

"He was beginning to think that death was finally upon them and that they should find some place to hide where they would not be found. There were times when he sat watching the boy sleep that he would begin to sob uncontrollably but it wasnt about death. He wasnt sure what it was about but he thought it was about beauty or about goodness. Things he’d no longer any way to think about at all."

"He pulled the boy closer. Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that. You forget some things, dont you? Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget."

"He knew only that his child was his warrant. He said: If he is not the word of God God never spoke."

"Maybe you should always be on the lookout. If trouble comes when you least expect it then maybe the thing to do is to always expect it."