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You know, I do believe in magic. I was born and raised in a magic time, in a magic town, among magicians. Oh, most everybody else didn't realize we lived in that web of magic, connected by silver filaments of chance and circumstance. But I knew it all along. When I was twelve years old, the world was my magic lantern, and by its green spirit glow I saw the past, the present and into the future. You probably did too; you just don't recall it..
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magic
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Robert R. McCammon |
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87fece3
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You know, I do believe in magic. I was born and raised in a magic time, in a magic town, among magicians. Oh, most everybody else didn't realize we lived in that web of magic, connected by silver filaments of chance and circumstance. But I knew it all along. When I was twelve years old, the world was my magic lantern, and by its green spirit glow I saw the past, the present and into the future. You probably did too; you just don't recall it..
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magic
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Robert R. McCammon |
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85f210d
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After years of having a dog, you know him. You know the meaning of his snuffs and grunts and barks. Every twitch of the ears is a question or statement, every wag of the tail is an exclamation.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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The truth of life is that every year we get farther away from the essence that is born within us. We get shouldered with burdens, some of them good, some of them not so good. Things happen to us. Loved ones die. People get in wrecks and get crippled. People lose their way, for one reason or another. It's not hard to do, in this world of crazy mazes. Life itself does its best to take that memory of magic away from us. You don't know its happ..
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Maybe crazy is what they call anybody who's got magic in them after they're no longer a child.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age. Told to grow up, f..
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Robert R. McCammon |
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454a1e0
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They say that somewhere in Africa the elephants have a secret grave where they go to lie down, unburden their wrinkled gray bodies, and soar away, light spirits at the end.
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death
elephants
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Robert R. McCammon |
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3417564
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If you were my girlfriend I would give you a hundred lightning bugs in a green glass jar, so you could always see your way. I would give you a meadow full of wildflowers, where no two blooms would ever be alike. I would give you my bicycle, with its golden eye to protect you. I would write a story for you, and make you a princess who lived in a white marble castle. If you would only like me, I would give you magic. If you would only like me..
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Once upon a time, man had a love affair with fire.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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See, this is my opinion: we all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, forest fires, and comets inside us. We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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No one ever grows up. They may look grown-up, but it's just the clay of time. Men and women are still children deep in their hearts." Mrs. Neville"
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Robert R. McCammon |
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3d74068
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I couldn't picture heaven. How could a place be any good at all if it didn't have the things there you enjoyed doing? If there were no comic books, no monster movies, no bikes, and no country roads to ride them on? No swimming pools, no ice cream, no summer, or barbecue on the Fourth of July? No thunderstorms, and front porches on which to sit and watch them coming? Heaven sounded to me like a library that only held books about one certain ..
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Put one foot forward and the other will get you to where you are going~!" Bag Lady, Swan Song"
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Robert R. McCammon |
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the magic place of soul-soothing dreams, where the silken sheen of polished glass under soft lights made her think of how lovely Heaven was going to be.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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I'd like to be everybody in the world' I said. 'I'd like to live a million times.' 'Well'--and here my father gave one of his sagely nods--'that would be a fine piece of magic, wouldn't it?
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Robert R. McCammon |
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One Step...and then the next gets you where you're going." - Sister Creep"
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Here is my room, in the yellow lamplight and the space heater rumbling: Indian rug red as Cochise's blood, a desk with seven mystic drawers, a chair covered in material as velvety blue-black as Batman's cape, an aquarium holding tiny fish so pale you could see their hearts beat, the aforementioned dresser covered with decals from Revell model airplane kits, a bed with a quilt sewn by a relative of Jefferson Davis's, a closet, and the shelve..
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Robert R. McCammon |
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64bd239
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The same river can never be crossed twice. The flowing water has no memory of footprints.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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This was a dank, sinister chill: the chill of shadows where poison toadstools grown, their ruddy colors beckoning a child to come, come take a taste of candy.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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It is a contradiction this creek- a hundred thousand years old but renewed with each rainfall.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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he was a scream wrapped up in straw, a little, weak, vicious thing gnashing inside a monstrous facade...
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Robert R. McCammon |
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hot shouts of neon...
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Robert R. McCammon |
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and his bones were a cage of ice.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Johnny James was sitting on the front porch, sipping from a glass of gasoline in the December heat, when the doom-screamer came.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Grigsby had looked at him askance. "Why is it," he said, "that I have the distinct impression you're not surprised by this news?" 'Surprised by the fact that the reverend is first and foremost a human being? Surprised by the fact that every human being, reverend or ribald, can be undone by capricious circumstances? Or should I be surprised by the fact that a man who teaches love and forgiveness can love and forgive? Tell me, Marmy, exactl..
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love
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Robert R. McCammon |
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6c5eef0
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His hair was think and curly and reddish-brown, his eyes a clear ice blue; Ramona had told him many times that she could see the sky in them, clouds when he was angry and rain when he was sad. Now, if she had looked into his eyes closely enough, she might've seen the approaching storm.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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There was lightning behind Mr. Sayre's eyes, and it was looking for a place to strike.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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The sharp white steeple of the Hawthorne First Baptist Church stuck up through the leafless trees like an admonishing finger.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Sergeant Pepper was dead. G.I. Joe lived on. George Bush was president, movies stars were dying from AIDS, kids were smoking crack in the ghettos and the suburbs, Muslims were blowing airliners from the skies, rap music ruled, and nobody cared much about the Movement anymore. It was a dry and dusty thing, like the air in the graves of Hendrix, Joplin, and God. She was letting her thoughts take her into treacherous territory, and the thought..
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Robert R. McCammon |
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It seemed to Billy that no matter how far you walked, you never really got to the end of things.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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He felt, though, that if love was the desire to possess someone, it was in reality the poor substance of self-love. It seemed to him that a greater, truer love was the desire to open a cage - be it made of iron bars or the bones of tormented injustice - and set the nightbird free.
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love
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Robert R. McCammon |
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dd418dd
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It had been a joyful day for frogs and mud hens. For the human breed, however, the low gray clouds and chill rain coiled chains around the soul.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Matthew fell on his belly, the pain in his ribs making him curl up like a stomped worm.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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The evening crept up, as evenings will. In the fading purple twilight, with the last bold artist's stroke of red sun painting the bellies of clouds across the western horizon, Matthew took a lantern and went walking.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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e6e4b5b
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for flatboat barges. They would talk about the day Swan met a boatload of survivors from the destroyed land that had been called Russia, and nobody could understand their language, but she talked to them and heard them through the miraculous jeweled ring of glass that
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Robert R. McCammon |
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40912c6
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Maybe he was crazy. Maybe crazy is what they call anybody who's got magic in them after they're no longer a child.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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understood then what courage is all about. It is loving someone else more than you love yourself.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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But Sister's bag was there like a shield, and the dagger punched through but couldn't penetrate a frozen turkey dinner.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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clips,
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Robert R. McCammon |
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After a few minutes he looked back and saw the derricks of St. Nasty receding against the violet-streaked sky. Then he looked forward again, toward whatever lay ahead.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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It took us both -- and Mom, too, and just about everybody in town -- a long time to accept the fact that he and his wife had done such evil things. Though he wasn't evil through and through, or else why would he have saved my life? I don't think anyone is evil beyond saving. Maybe I'm like Dad that way: naive. But better naive, I think, than calloused to the core. It dawned on me sometime later about Dr. Dahninaderke and his nightly vigils ..
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Robert R. McCammon |
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21fd48e
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Don't you go through a day without remembering something of it, and tucking that memory away like a treasure. Because it is.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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large blue eyes
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Robert R. McCammon |
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fa46574
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We are born able to sing to birds and read the clouds and see our destiny in grains of sand. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls. We get it churched out, spanked out, washed out, and combed out. We get put on the straight and narrow and told to be responsible. Told to act our age.
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Robert R. McCammon |