It’s a poor boy sanditch, with lots of mayo, whatever that is. I’d want a sauce that didn’t look quite so much like come, myself, but may it do ya fine.
Roland to Eddie, Dark Tower VII
Gunfire makes close relations.
So much you did; So much you did and so much more you would have done, aye, and all without a check or qualm, and so will the world end, I think, a victim of love rather than hate. For love’s ever been the more destructive weapon, sure.
Even if the torture stops, I’ll die. And you’ll die too, for when love leaves the world, all hearts are still. Tell them of my love and tell them of my pain and tell them of my hope, which still lives. For this is all I have and all I am and all I ask.
Any statement beginning with the words ‘In truth’ is almost always a lie.
The bumbler did not bite, but said a single word. “Olan,” said he. Then he lowered his head, uttered a single sigh, and died.
May you find your Tower, Roland, and breach it, and may you climb to the top!”
The teeth of his old enemies, these ancient brothers and sisters of a thing which had called itself Kurt Barlow, sank into him like stingers. Callahan felt them not at all. He was smiling as he pulled the trigger and escaped them for good.
Sometimes I think we’d all be better off if the people who mean well would just creep away and die.
For most of that endless day Jake found himself thinking in two different voices. This had happened to him before, but not for years; not since the time when, as a very young child, he suspected he might have suffered some sort of weird, below-the-parental-radar breakdown.
Eddie’s dying, said the first voice (the one that used to assure him there were monsters in his closet, and soon they would emerge to eat him alive). He’s in a room in Corbett Hall and Susannah’s with him and he won’t shut up, but he’s dying.
No, denied the second voice (the one that used to assure him -feebly- that there were no such things as monsters). No, that can’t be. Eddie’s … Eddie! And besides, he’s ka-tet. He might die when we reach The Dark Tower, we might all die when we get there, but not now, not here, that’s crazy.
Eddie’s dying, replied the first voice. It was implacable. He’s got a hole in his head almost big enough to stick your fist in, and he’s dying.
To this the second voice could offer no more denials, each weaker than the last.