He rose and turned toward the lights of town. The tidepools

He rose and turned toward the lights of town. The tidepools bright as smelterpots among the dark rocks where the phosphorescent seacrabs clambered back. Passing through the salt grass he looked back. The horse had not moved. A ship's light winked in the swells. The colt stood against the horse with its head down and the horse was watching, out there past men's knowing, where the stars are drowning and whales ferry their vast souls through the black and seamless sea.

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In this evocative passage from Cormac McCarthy's "Blood Meridian," the setting captures a moment of reflection as a character observes the serene beauty of nature juxtaposed with the darkness surrounding it. The tidepools shine like molten metal, highlighting the vibrant life amidst the overshadowing rocks and the mysterious presence of phosphorescent sea creatures. This imagery paints a vivid picture of the natural world, filled with both light and shadow.

The character's...

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ocean

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Blood Meridian, or the...

Author

Cormac McCarthy

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March 28, 2025

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and bottles and they left

They were Diegueños. They were armed with short bows and they drew about the travelers and knelt and gave them water out of a gourd. They'd seen such pilgrims before and with sufferings more terrible. They eked a desperate living from that land and they knew that nothing excepting some savage pursuit could drive men to such plight and they watched each day for that thing to gather itself out of its terrible incubation in the house of the sun and muster along the edge of the eastern world and whether it be armies or plague or pestilence or something altogether unspeakable they waited with a strange equanimity.

The writing says that whoever takes a sword to be lost by the sword, said the black. The judge smiled and his depiction shone from fat. Is there a sane person who would want it differently? asked. According to the writing, war is really bad, Irving said. But there are many bloody wars in writing. No matter what people think about war, the judge said. That doesn't matter to the war. As if we were to ask them what they think about the stone. There was always war. There was no man yet, but the war was waiting here on the ground. The supreme craft is his supreme master. It was always the case, and it would always be the case. Only so and never different.

and they watched the fire which does contain within it something of men themselves inasmuch as they are less without it and are divided from their origins and are exiles. For

The earth fell away on every side equally in its arcature and by these limits were they circumscribed and of them were they locus.

He never sleeps. He says that he will never die.

If so, then it was also here where I came to know I can survive what hurts. I believed in my capacity to stand back up and run into the waves again and again, no matter the risk.

He rose and turned toward the lights of town. The tidepools bright as smelterpots among the dark rocks where the phosphorescent seacrabs clambered back. Passing through the salt grass he looked back. The horse had not moved. A ship's light winked in the swells. The colt stood against the horse with its head down and the horse was watching, out there past men's knowing, where the stars are drowning and whales ferry their vast souls through the black and seamless sea.

Maketa," I said, throwing myself down in the sand. "I lost. The ocean won."She smiled. "Was it a good feeling?""Mm," I said."That's good," she said. "Have another rice ball?

Jiko: Surfer, wave, same thing.That's just stupid, I said. A surfer's a person. A wave is a wave. How can they be the same?Jiko looked out across the ocean to where the water met the sky. A wave is born from deep conditions of the ocean. A person is born from deep conditions of the world. A person pokes up from the world and rolls along like a wave, until it is time to sink down again. Up, down. Person, wave.

And suddenly I rejoiced in the great security of the sea as compared with the unrest of the land, in my choice of that untempted life presenting no disquieting problems, invested with an elementary moral beauty by the absolute straightforwardness of its appeal and by the singleness of its purpose.