“In the long arcade of the bus station footfalls come back like laughter. He marches darkly toward his darkly marching shape in the glass of the depot door. His fetch come up from life's other side like an autoscopic hallucination, Suttree and Antisuttree, hand reaching to the hand.”

— Cormac McCarthy , book Suttree

Source: Suttree (1979), Chapter 1, page 28

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

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Cormac McCarthy 270

American novelist, playwright, and screenwriter 1933

Lisa Kleypas (1964) American writer

Source: Blue-Eyed Devil

“Human beings never know more than a part, as "through a glass darkly"; and all knowledge comes to us in pieces.”

Thomas Cahill (1940) American scholar and writer

Introduction
Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea: Why the Greeks Matter (2003)

“There are two supreme pleasures in life. One is ideal, the other real. The ideal is when a man receives the seals of office from the hands of his Sovereign. The real pleasure comes when he hands them back.”

Archibald Primrose, 5th Earl of Rosebery (1847–1929) British politician

Upon the fall of his ministry; said to journalist Sir Henry William Lucy, The Diary of a Journalist (Vol. 1), E. P. Dutton, 1920), p 93.

“He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,
He is wisdom to the mighty, he is succour to the brave,
So the world shall be his footstool, and the soul of Time his slave,
Our God is marching on.”

Julia Ward Howe (1819–1910) American abolitionist, social activist, and poet

First manuscript version (19 November 1861).
The Battle Hymn of the Republic (1861)

“Slowly he lifted his hands in the darkness and held them in mid-air, the fingers spread weakly open. If he reached out with his hands, and if his hands were electric wires, and if his heart were a battery giving life and fire to those hands, and if he reached out with his hands and touched other people, reached out through these stone walls and felt other hands connected with other hearts -- if he did that, would there be a reply, a shock?”

Richard Wright (1908–1960) African-American writer

Native Son (1940)

“"What are you doing here, Caroni?" Brother Leon asked, looking up from his desk. He squinted toward the doorway. "It is Caroni, isn't it?" "Yes, it is," David answered, closing the door soundlessly, hiding the object in his hand behind his back.”

Robert Cormier book Beyond the Chocolate War

Source: Beyond the Chocolate War (1985), p. 232

“At the earliest ending of winter,
In March, a scrawny cry from outside
Seemed like a sound in his mind.
He knew that he heard it,
A bird's cry, at daylight or before,
In the early March wind.”

Wallace Stevens (1879–1955) American poet

"Not Ideas About The Thing But The Thing Itself"
Collected Poems (1954)

“He had his hands full with Adi Akinbiyi when he came on, he had his hands full with Andy Gray from the start and in other ways he had his hands full with Kyle Lafferty and Robbie Blake as well. He's had four or five strikers coming at him and he's stood up to them manfully.”

Phil Brown (footballer) (1959) English association football player and manager

07-Nov-2007, Hull City OWS
No comment.

“I’m not strong enough for this,” he whispered in her ear—like he didn’t want anyone to hear that coming out of his mouth. Ever. Running her hands up his powerful back, she held him just as hard. “But I am.”

Jessica Bird (1969) U.S. novelist

Source: The King

“So as through a glass, and darkly
The age long strife I see
Where I fought in many guises,
Many names, but always me.”

George S. Patton (1885–1945) United States Army general

Through A Glass, Darkly (1918)
Context: So as through a glass, and darkly
The age long strife I see
Where I fought in many guises,
Many names, but always me. And I see not in my blindness
What the objects were I wrought,
But as God rules o'er our bickerings
It was through His will I fought. So forever in the future,
Shall I battle as of yore,
Dying to be born a fighter,
But to die again, once more.

“In the long arcade of the bus station footfalls come back like laughter. He marches darkly toward his darkly marching shape in the glass of the depot door. His fetch come up from life's other side like an autoscopic hallucination, Suttree and Antisuttree, hand reaching to the hand.”

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Cormac McCarthy 270

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