The Gunslinger

The earth drew in its breath in the summer of the coming eclipse.

The price of any betrayal always comes due in flesh.

Time’s the thief of memory:

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

Take the dead from the dead, the old proverb said; only a corpse may speak true prophecy.

“The wind goes faster than any man on a mule. In the open it can kill you.”

He was like something out of a fairytale or a myth, a fabulous, dangerous creature.

Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father’s heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?

. . . O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.

Thomas Wolfe

Look Homeward, Angel

As for me, I had the time of my life.

Stephen King

At nineteen, it seems to me, one has a right to be arrogant; time has usually not begun its stealthy and rotten subtractions