Death, but not for you, gunslinger. Never for you. You darkle. You tinct. May I be brutally frank? You go on.

For a woman a man will do many things that he'd turn his back on in an instant when alone; things he'd back away from, nine times out of ten, even when drunk adn with a bunch of his friends egging him on.

Dead fields under a November sky, scattered rose petals brown and turning up at the edges, empty pools scummed with algae, rot, decomposition, dust.

the man in black travels with your soul in his pocket.

God doesn't bribe, child. He just makes a sign and lets people take it as they will.

As for the end of the universe…I say let it come as it will, in ice, fire, or darkness. What did the universe ever do for me that I should mind its welfare?

A man who can't bear to share his habits is a man who needs to quit them.