The Tower. He would come to the Dark Tower and there he would sing their names; there he would sing their names; there he would sing all their names. The sun stained the east a dusky rose, and at last Roland, no longer the last gunslinger but one of the last three, slept and dreamed his angry dreams through which there ran only that one soothing blue thread: There I will sing all their names!

Do you happen to have another Condom? I think I've discovered the cure for headaches.

Waiting rooms were made for books-of course! But so are theater lobbies before the show, long and boring checkout lines, and everyone's favorite, the john.

There may be fairies, there may be elves, but God helps those who help themselves.

Fear can hold you prisoner. Hope can set you free.

Like anything else that happens on its own, the act of writing is beyond currency. Money is great stuff to have, but when it comes to the act of creation, the best thing is not to think of money too much. It constipates the whole process.

and so will the world end, I think, a victim of love rather than hate. For love's ever been the more destructive weapon, sure.