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because their spirits were weak and their brains were corrupted by mental junk food.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Swan was approaching, trying to run but being thrown off balance by the weight of her head.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Hey, listen here!" She strode toward their booth on her chunky legs, her cheeks reddening."
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Robert R. McCammon |
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The young man's eyes were red-rimmed, his gaunt face strained by whatever inner demons were torturing him.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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sometimes the imagination could be a useful place to hide in when the going got rough.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Tick ... tick ... tick. Time, the king of cruelty.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Her eyes found his. "Like the wind. Or a train's whistle, way far off. Or thunder, long before you see the lightning. A lot of things." "How long have you been able to hear it?" "Since I was a little girl." Josh couldn't help but smile. Swan misread it. "Are you making fun of me?" "No. Maybe ... I wish I could hear a sound like that. Do you know what it is?" "Yes," Swan answered. "It's death." --
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Robert R. McCammon |
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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. When a song stirs a memory, when motes of dust turning in a shaft of light takes your attention from the world, you step beyond who you are and where you are.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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She recalled a glass angel in the window once--a powerful figure: the angel's long hair was swept back like holy, glittering fire,
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Bein' used to somethin'," Davy Ray answered, "is not the same as likin' it."
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Robert R. McCammon |
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slime of DeLauren
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Something inside her brain cracked like a funhouse mirror that existed only to reflect a distorted world,
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Man!" I said. "That sounds ... that sounds ..." What would describe it? What word in the English language would speak of youth and hope and freedom and desire, of sweet wanderlust and burning blood? What word describes the brotherhood of buddies, and the feeling that as long as the music plays, you are part of that tough, rambling breed who will inherit the earth? "Cool," Davy Ray supplied."
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Robert R. McCammon |
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3e55bed
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tears! For I am thy passin' guest, a sojourner, like all my fathers. Look away from me, that I may know gladness, before I depart and be no more.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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4853b16
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The color reminded Josh of what the summer sky had looked like when he himself was a child, with all the tomorrows before him and no place to go in any particular hurry.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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But he'd inherited the mistakes of the generations of presidents before him,
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Strategic Air Command in Omaha
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Robert R. McCammon |
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083cbac
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The Basement was an underground shelter in Delaware where the first lady, the president's seventeen-year-old son, ranking cabinet members and staff people would--they hoped--be protected from all but a direct hit by a one-megaton nuclear warhead.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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d37f596
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a few of them were already hollering for help, but most were shocked silent. His mother had looked at him, orange juice dripping from her hair and face, and said, "Next year we go to the beach."
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Robert R. McCammon |
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Because if it's not safe here, it's not safe anywhere in this world." His voice cracked a little on the last word."
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Robert R. McCammon |
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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. Told to grow up, for God's sake. And you know why we were told that? Because the people doing the telling were afraid of our wildness and yo..
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Robert R. McCammon |
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local man who ran a hardware store in nearby Belleville,
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Robert R. McCammon |
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12cc3b4
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It was certainly a miracle that they were still alive, and a corpse that could sit up and speak was not something you saw every day.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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We ran like young wild furies, where angels feared to tread. The woods were dark and deep. Before us demons fled. We checked Coke bottle bottoms to see how far was far. Our worlds of magic wonder were never reached by car. We loved our dogs like brothers, our bikes like rocket ships. We were going to the stars, to Mars we'd make round trips. We swung on vines like Tarzan, and flashed Zorro's keen blade. We were James Bond in his Aston, we w..
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Robert R. McCammon |
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19085b2
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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.
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Robert R. McCammon |
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3308dd3
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we had a love affair with fire, the president of the United States thought as the match that he'd just struck to light his pipe flared beneath his fingers. He stared into it, mesmerized by its color--and as the fire grew he had the vision of a tower of flame a thousand feet tall, whirling across the country he loved, torching cities and towns, turning rivers to steam, ripping across the ruins of heartland farms and casting
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Robert R. McCammon |
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trembled. He aimed the rifle's barrel down the tunnel. "Praise the Lord!" the old"
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Robert R. McCammon |