I’m so glad to see someone, who cares if it’s a deaf-mute and a retard.
A feeling that all his hard decisions, all the pain and loss and spilled blood, had not been for nothing, after all. There was a reason. There was a purpose. There was life and love.
I buy the same ground chuck week after week. I’ve fed it to hundreds or thousands of people, in spite of those stupid catburger rumors, and it always renews itself.
Wegen meiner Pflicht bin ich verdammt. Und weshalb sollten sich die Verdammten abwenden?
Keine Seele, aber Humor. Das war es; eine Art tanzende, irre Heiterkeit.
No more obsessive writing, either, accumulating notebook after notebook like little piles of rabbit turds scattered along a woodland trail.
He said it was as if Tommy had produced a key which fit a cage in the back of his mind, a cage like his own cell. Only instead of holding a man, that cage held a tiger, and that tiger’s name was Hope. Williams produced the key that unlocked the cage and the tiger was out, willy-nilly, to roam his brain.
Flattery,” Wendy told him, “is when your daddy says he likes my new yellow slacks even if he doesn’t or when he says I don’t need to take off five pounds.” “Oh. Is it lying for fun?
But never underestimate the American bourgeoisie’s capacity to embrace fascism under the name of populism.
They are as they are because they live in the light, the gunslinger thought suddenly. That light of civilization you were taught to adore above all other things. They live in a world which has not moved on.
At such times one sees everything and remembers it all. I know from personal experience. I wish I did not.
The truth was often like that, he thought – a bleary circle of light behind clouds.
Sometimes human places, create inhuman monsters. – Stephen King, The Shining.
It’s his voice that I remember, certainly: my father’s voice, low and slow, how he would chuckle sometimes or laugh outright.
Sein Ausgehgesicht hing im Schrank bei seinem Regenschirm und seinem Schlapphut.
Ich will genau wissen, was an jenen Orten geschehen ist. Und ich will wissen, worin mehr Wahrheit liegt – im Text oder in den Anzeigen daneben.
Yet still, perhaps we’re well-met.” “Perhaps we are,” the gunslinger replied.
When it comes to writing fiction, long or short, the learning curve never ends. I may be a Professional Writer to the IRS when I file my tax return, but in creative terms, I’m still an amateur, still learning my craft. We all are.
Smoke puffed from the open V of his shirt. And still the humming of the electricity went on and on, filling my head, vibrating in there. I think it’s the sound mad people must hear, that or something like it.
Die Schuld liegt immer am selben Ort, meine feinen Kinderchen: bei dem, der schwach genug ist, sie auf sich zu nehmen.