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“Who did? Who understood anything anymore?… These days you were usually just grateful to find things that still worked at all.”

Captain Tripsss!

“Overhead, a full moon came out from behind a scrim of cloud, painting the clearing and the stream in the tawdry hues of pawnshop jewelry. There was a face in the moon… which looked upon those few beings still alive and struggling below with the amusement of a lunatic.”

“Will you drink to the earth, and to the days which have passed upon it?” he asked. His voice was hoarse, trembling with emotion.
“Will you drink to the fullness which was, and to friends who have passed on? Will you drink to good company, well met. Will these things set us on, Old Mother?”

“Talk about zip! Talk about zowie! Golly gee, gosh, and wowie!”

“The quickest way to learn about a new place is to know what it dreams of…”

“His eye saw, and his heart was opened. It was as if all love and life had suddenly risen from Roland's dead artifact; it was there in the fire, burning out in triumph and some wonderful, inchoate defiance, declaring that despair was a mirage and death a dream.”

“You have forgotten the face of your father.”

ooofff what a scene!

“… into that void pf possibility which lay beyond all physical worlds.”

damn this is good

“If you have given up your heart for the Tower, Roland, you have already lost. A heartless creature is a loveless creature, and a loveless creature is a beast. To be a beast is perhaps bearable, although the man who has become one will surely pay hell's own price in the end, but what if you should gain your object? … what could you do except degenerate from beast to monster?”

I love Eddie.

“It had a grating noise somewhere in its cycle which served to remind that perpetual motion, even under strictly controlled conditions, was still a fool's dream.”

“I understood it, all right,” the boy said. It was a game, wasn't it? Do grown men always have to play games? Does everything have to be an excuse for another kind of game? Do any men grow up or do they only come of age?”

The state of the f world.

"It was beautiful," the gunslinger said. "There were fields and forests and rivers and mists in the morning. But that's only pretty. My mother used to say that the only real beauty is order and love and light."

“The drug had often disturbed him: his ego was too strong (or perhaps just too simple) to enjoy being eclipsed and peeled back, made a target for more sensitive emotions—they tickled at him (and sometimes maddened him like the touch of a cat's whiskers. But this time he felt fairly calm. That was good.”
King knows what’s up. 😎

“The story Cort used to tell us was that the Old Gods pissed over the desert and made mescaline.”

There’s psychs in the Dark Tower omgg This is going to be fantastic.

“Was there ever a trap to match the trap of love?”

“Why do you have to think you’re in the middle of such a mystery?”

“The gunslinger occasionally moaned with the wind. The stars were as indifferent to this as they were to wars, crucifixions, resurrections. This also would have pleased him.”

let’s gooo

“The African Painted Dog” by Catriona Ward.
3/5

« When Ulysses’ [Odysseus’s] companions savoured the exotic lotus, their palates relished the taste that undid them … So I relish the books that have hurt me, love the weapon that inflicted my wounds. » Ovid.

“If I'd known the harm I'd suffer from her and her sisters
I'd never have set my hand to their holy game—
but what to do now? I'm hooked.
Creative inspiration has got me.
Though verse-ruined, I’m mad enough to love verse still.”
-Ovid. Tristia.

“… a couple of murders could not hold a candle to the prospect of a really good holy grudge-match. Because, after all, other things had to take a back seat when it came to questions of religion.”

This is wild lol!

This is both hilarious and horrifying. Such a good read and narrative pacing.