This inhuman place makes human monsters.
The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed. The desert was the apotheosis of all deserts, huge, standing to the sky for what looked like eternity in all directions. It was whi...
That's clear about the end of my other life, how I kept saying 'I can do this' even when I knew I couldn't, even when I knew I was fucked, I was dead ass fucked in the pouring rain.
Symbolism exists to adorn and enrich, not to create an artificial sense of profundity.
Swear to me swear to me that if it isn't dead you'll all come back.
Sometimes the embers are better than the campfire.
Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go, or when you open the cage to feed them they somehow fly out past yo...
Silent white light filled the world. And the righteous and unrighteous alike were consumed in that holy fire.
Rich people can be generous, even the ones with bloodcurdling political views can be generous, but most believe in generosity on their own terms, and underneath (not so deep, either), they’re always a...
Remember that hope is a good thing, Red, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.
People think first love is sweet, and never sweeter than when that first bond snaps. You've heard a thousand pop and country songs that prove the point; some fool got his heart broke. Yet that first b...
Party lights hang over the street, yellow and red and green. Sadie stumbles over someone’s chair, but I’m ready for this and I catch her easily by the arm.Sorry, clumsy, she says.You always were, Sadi...
Mister, we deal in lead.
Love leaves scars.
Love didn't grow very well in a place where there was only fear
Laughter, Susannah would later reflect, is like a hurricane: once it reaches a certain point, it becomes self-feeding, self-supporting. You laugh not because the are funny but because your own is fu...
It's a long way back to Eden, Sweetheart, so don't sweat the small stuff.
If you've ever been homesick, or felt exiled from all the things and people that once defined you, you'll know how important welcoming words and friendly smiles can be.
I don't mean that creative people are somehow finer, or more sensitive, and thus have finer, more sensitive nervous breakdowns - you can save that horseshit for the Sylvia Plath worshipers. It's just...
I am your number one fan.