Only enemies speak the truth; friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of duty.
I do not aim with my hand; he who aims with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I aim with my eye. I do not shoot with my hand; he who shoots with his hand has forgotten the face of his father. I shoot with my mind. I do not kill with my gun; he who kills with his gun has forgotten the face of his father. I kill with my heart.
If you have given up your heart ... you have already lost. A heartless creature is a loveless creature, and a loveless creature is a beast.
When love leaves the world, all hearts are still. Tell them of my love and tell them of my pain and tell them of my hope, which still lives. For this is all I have and all I am and all I ask.
The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.
A coward judges all he sees by what he is.
Flip-flop, hippety-hop, offa your rocker and over the top, life's a fiction and the world's a lie, so put on some Creedence and let's get high.
May you find your Tower, Roland, and breach it, and may you climb to the top!
Any statement beginning with the words 'In truth' is almost always a lie.
True love, like any other strong and addicting drug, is boring — once the tale of encounter and discovery is told, kisses quickly grow stale and caresses tiresome… except, of course, to those who share the kisses, who give and take the caresses while every sound and color of the world seems to deepen and brighten around them. As with any other strong drug, true first love is really only interesting to those who have become its prisoners. And, as is true of any other strong and addicting drug, true first love is dangerous.
Yet suppose further. Suppose that all worlds, all universes, met at a single nexus, a single pylon, a Tower. And within it, a stairway, perhaps rising to the Godhead itself. Would you dare climb to the top, gunslinger? Could it be that somewhere above all of endless reality, there exists a room?...' You dare not.' And in the gunslinger's mind, those words echoed: You dare not.
In the end, the wind takes everything, doesn't it? And why not? Why other? If the sweetness of our lives did not depart, there would be no sweetness at all.
It was the possibility of darkness that made the day seem so bright.
What if I fall?', Tim cried. Maerlyn laughed. 'Sooner or later, we all do.
Battles that last five minutes spawn legends that live a thousand years.
See you later, alligator. After a while, crocodile.
Let the word and the legend go before you. Let the world go before you. Let your shadow grow. Let it grow hair on its face. Let it become dark. Given time, words may even enchant an enchanter.
Sometimes I think we'd all be better off if the people who mean well would just creep away and die.
A person’s never too old for stories. Man and boy, girl and woman, we live for them. - Roland Deschain
Where you think I’m goan?’ ‘Well,’ Eddie said, ‘what was behind Door Number One wasn’t so hot, and what was behind Door Number Two was even worse, so now, instead of quitting like sane people, we’re going to go right on ahead and check out Door Number Three. The way things have been going, I think it’s likely to be something like Godzilla or Ghidra the Three-Headed Monster, but I’m an optimist. I’m still hoping for the stainless steel cookware.
Definition of a wanderer: a guy who's always looking beyond.
The beauty of religious mania is that it has the power to explain everything. Once God (or Satan) is accepted as the first cause of everything which happens in the mortal world, nothing is left to chance...logic can be happily tossed out the window.
Shall there be truth between us, as two men? Not as friends, but as enemies and equals?
All is forgotten in the stone halls of the dead. These are the rooms of ruin where the spiders spin and the great circuits fall quiet, one by one.
No one ever does live happily ever after, but we leave the children to find that out for themselves.
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