Author: Justin Cronin

Cites

• Mark Strand (2)
  • IN: The Twelve (2012) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: She stood beside me for years, or was it a moment? I cannot remember. Maybe I loved her, maybe I didn’t. There was a house, and then no house. There were trees, but none remain. When no one remembers, what is there? You, whose moments are gone, who drift like smoke in the afterlife, tell me something, tell me anything.
    FROM: In the Afterlife, (2011), Poem, US/Canada
• A. E. Housman (1)
  • IN: The City of Mirrors (2016) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: And how am I to face the odds Of man's bedevilment and God's? I, a stranger and afraid In a world I never made.
    FROM: Last Poems, (1922), Poem, UK
• John Updike (1)
  • IN: Mary and O’Neil (2001) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: Nobody sees it happen, but it does. For suddenly, it seems, the woods are bare.
    FROM: Leaf Season, (1986), Poem, US
• Bob Dylan (1)
  • IN: The Summer Guest (2004) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: I’ll look for you in old Honolulu, San Francisco, Ashtabula, Yer gonna have to leave me now, I know. But I’ll see you in the sky above, In the tall grass, in the ones I love, Yer gonna make me lonesome when you go.
    FROM: You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go, (1975), Song, US
• William Shakespeare (1)
  • IN: The Passage (2010) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defac’d The rich proud cost of outworn buried age; When sometime lofty towers I see down-raz’d, And brass eternal slave to mortal rage; When I have seen the hungry ocean gain Advantage on the kingdom of the shore, And the firm soil win of the watery main, Increasing store with loss, and loss with store; When I have seen such interchange of state, Or state itself confounded to decay; Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate That Time will come and take my love away.
    FROM: Sonnet 64, (1609), Poem, UK
• Katherine Anne Porter (1)
  • IN: The Passage (None) Fiction, American
    EPIGRAPH: The road to death is a long march beset with all evils, and the heart fails little by little at each new terror, the bones rebel at each step, the mind sets up its own bitter resistance and to what end? The barriers sink one by one, and no covering of the eyes shuts out the landscape of disaster, nor the sight of crimes committed there.
    FROM: Pale Horse, Pale Rider, (1939), Novel, US