It's a poorboy sanditch,' Roland said. 'With lots of mayo, whatever that is. I'd want a sauce that didn't look quite so much like come, myself, but may it do ya fine.

Sometimes there is absolutely no difference at all between salvation and damnation.

But sorry is the Kool-Aid of human emotions. [...] True sorrow is as rare as true love.

My mother was a reader, and she read to us. She read us Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde when I was six and my brother was eight; I never forgot it.

... suicide gets in the air sometimes. Like a cold germ.

In the end we always wear out our worries. That’s what Wireman says.

Are you sure self-pity is a luxury you can afford, Jack?