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Alexander Anderson

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Alexander is Currently Reading

Alexander Anderson is currently reading

Children of Dune (Dune, #3)

by Frank Herbert

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"It’s a lot to take in…i feel like im reading a very long riddle half the time! Starting to get spicy… I thinks 🤣" — 18 hours, 23 min ago

Apr 27, 2026 03:11AM

Alexander’s Notes & Highlights

Dune (Dune, #1) by Frank Herbert

6 notes & 12 highlights

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. ...more

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See Alexander Anderson’s 35 books with notes and highlights…

Alexander’s Quotes

“And the next time your parents or your significant other ask you why you want to go and see that crap, tell them this: Stephen King sent me. He told me to look for the good ones, because they’re the ones that speak to what’s good in the human heart.”
― Stephen King, Danse Macabre

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“People being what they are, not everyone in the colony really earns their calories every day. And dogs being what they are, Ash has proven his worth many times over.”
― Marko Kloos, Scorpio

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“We don’t bring anything into the world and we sure as shit don’t take anything out.”
― Richard Bachman, The Long Walk

2 likes

“If you can’t afford a movie, go to the zoo. If you can’t afford the zoo, go see a politician.”
― Stephen King, The Stand

9 likes

“They were buried six feet deep in the darkness. All they needed was the monotonous chanting of the priest, his voice muffled but not entirely obscured by the new-packed darkness, above which the mourners stood. The mourners were not even aware that they were here, they were alive, they were screaming and scratching and clawing at the coffin-lid darkness, the air was flaking and rusting away, the air was turning into poison gas, hope fading until hope itself was a darkness, and above all of it the nodding chapel-bell voice of the priest and the impatient, shuffling feet of mourners anxious to be off into the warm May sunshine. Then, overmastering that, the sighing, shuffling chorus of the bugs and the beetles, squirming their way through the earth, come for the feast.”
― Richard Bachman, The Long Walk

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