I am rereading Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy (C. McCarthy, Blood Meridian or the Evening Redness in the West, transl. it. R. Montanari, Einaudi, 2014; orig. ed. Blood Meridian or the Evening Redness in the West).
In the coming weeks, I will publish a series of excerpts, without regularity.
#1
"Only now has the boy finally stripped away all that he has been. His origins have become as remote as his destiny, and in all the turning of the world there will never be territories so wild and barbaric again in which to test whether the raw material of creation can conform to the will of man or if the heart itself is nothing more than a different kind of clay" (p. 6).