If you dont respect me what must you think of yourself?

... a man leaves much when he leaves his own country.

Last words are only words.

I dont know what I ever done, she said. I truly dont. Chigurh nodded. Probably you do, he said. There's a reason for everything. She shook her head. How many times I've said them very words. I wont again.

You are either born a writer or you are not.

Remember her hair in the morning before it was pinned, black, rampant, savage with loveliness. As if she slept in perpetual storm.

Goodness will find the little boy. It always has. It will again.