On the day of my judgment, when I stand before God, and He asks me why did I kill one of his true miracles, what am I gonna say? That it was my job? My job?
Stephen KingI dreamed of you. I dreamed you were wandering in the dark, and so was I. We found each other. We found each other in the dark.
Stephen KingHe killed them with their love
Stephen KingTheir lives had another forty seconds to run.
Stephen KingYou may wonder about long-term solutions. I assure you, there are none. All wounds are mortal. Take what's given. You sometimes get a little slack in the rope but the rope always has an end. So what? Bless the slack and don't waste your breath cursing the drop. A grateful heart knows that in the end we all swing.
Stephen KingThey walked through the rainy dark like gaunt ghosts, and Garraty didn't like to look at them. They were the walking dead.
Stephen KingStichwörter: horror walking dystopian-fiction
You've got no right to hate the Major. He didn't force you."
"Force me? FORCE me? He's KILLING me, that's all!"
"It's still not-"
"Shut up," Baker said curtly, and Garraty shut. He rubbed the back of his neck briefly and stared up into the whitish-blue sky. His shadow was deformed huddle almost beneath his feet. He turned up his third canteen of the day and drained it.
Baker said, "I'm sorry. I surely didn't mean to shout. My feet-"
"Sure," Garraty said.
"We're all getting this way," Baker said. "I sometimes think that's the worst part.
But somebody said there was billions bet on this. You'd think they'd be lined up three deep the whole way. And that there'd be TV coverage"
"It's discouraged."
"Why?"
"Why ask me?"
"Because you know," Garraty said, exasperated.
"How do you know?"
"Jesus, you remind me of the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland, sometimes," Garraty said. "Don't you ever just talk?
McVries seemed not to have heard.
"These things, they don't even bear the weight of conversation," he said, "J.D. Salinger...John Knowles...even James Kirkwood and that guy Don Bredes...they've destroyed being an adolescent, Garraty. If you're a sixteen-year-boy, you can't discuss the pains of adolescent love with any decency anymore. You just come off sounding like fucking Ron Howard with a hardon."
McVries laughed a little hysterically.
No, you're not getting exhausted yet, Garraty." [Stebbins] jerked a thumb at Olson's silhouette. "That's exhausted. He's almost through now."
Garraty watched Olson, fascinated, almost expecting him to drop at Stebbins's word. "What are you driving at?"
"Ask your cracker friend, Art Baker. A mule doesn't like to plow. But he likes carrots. So you hang a carrot in front of his eyes. A mule without a carrot gets exhausted. A mule with a carrot spends a long time being tired. You get it?"
"No."
Stebbins smiled again. "You will. Watch Olson. He lost his appetite for the carrot. He doesn't quite know it yet, but he has. Watch Olson, Garraty. You can learn from Olson."
Garraty looked at Stebbins closely, not sure how seriously to take him. Stebbins laughed aloud. His laugh was rich and full-a startling sound that made other Walkers turn their heads. "Go on. Go talk to him, Garraty. And if he won't talk, just get up close and have a good look. It's never too late to learn.
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