Lonne

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“An Echo in the Bone.

It was a familiar phenomenon. Doctors, soldiers, and mothers encounter it routinely; I had, any number of times. Unable to respond to an immediate emergency while clouded by fatigue, the mind simply withdraws a little, separating itself fastidiously from the body's overwhelming self-centered needs. From this clinical distance, it can direct things, bypassing emotions, pain, and tiredness, making necessary decisions, cold-bloodedly overruling the mindless body's needs for food, water, sleep, love, grief, pushing it past its fail-safe points.
Why emotions? I wondered dimly. Surely emotion was a function of the mind. And yet it seemed so deeply rooted in the flesh and this abdication of the mind always suppressed emotion, too.
They body resents this abdication, I think. Ignored and abused, it will not easily let the mind return. Often, the separation persists until one if finally allowed to sleep. With the body absorbed in its quiet intensities of regeneration, the mind settles cautiously back into the turbulent flesh, feeling its delicate way through the twisting passages of dreams, making peace. And you wake once more whole.”
Diana Galbaldon

Greil Marcus
“For every new art form there's someone to come along and pronounce it dead, but rarely has an art form been born dead - as is the case with rock video, and its major outlet, MTV.”
Greil Marcus

“Only there, where virtue sits as judge, are heroes born.”
R.A. Salvatore
tags: drizzt

Steven Blush
“Yeah I have an attitude. You weren't subjected to what I was subjected to, so don't try to tell me how I am.”
Steven Blush, American Hardcore: A Tribal History

Stephen  King
“The hands pulled him forward regardless. The hands of the Tower knew no mercy.

They were the hands of Gan, the hands of ka, and they knew no mercy.

He smelled alkali, bitter as tears. The desert beyond the door was white; blinding; waterless; without feature save for the faint, cloudy haze of the mountains which sketched themselves on the horizon. The smell beneath the alkali was that of the devil-grass which brought sweet dreams, nightmares, death.

But not for you, gunslinger. Never for you. You darkle. You tinct.

May I be brutally frank? You go on.

And each time you forget the last time. For you, each time is the first time.”
Stephen King, The Dark Tower

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