The Wind through the Keyhole (The Dark Tower, #4.5)

by Stephen King

Time was a face on the water, and like the great river before them, it did nothing but flow.

‘How do the bumblers know?’ Jake asked. Roland only shook his head. The how and why of things had never interested him much.

“When facts speak, the wise man listens.”

Besides, it will do you good. Horror’s a worm that needs to be coughed out before it breeds. Now tell them.’

It was a small thread, but sometimes – if you’re careful not to break it – you can pull on a small thread and unravel a whole garment.

‘A person’s never too old for stories, Bill. Man and boy, girl and woman, never too old. We live for them.’

It hurt, of course, but more often than not the best things do, I’ve found. You wouldn’t think it could be so, but – as the oldtimers used to say – the world’s tilted, and there’s an end to it.

“Look not long at what’s offered, for every precious thing has wings and may fly away.”’

‘Not to drink, not to wash, although we could do either, if we wanted to.’ ‘You’re joking, sai! It’s foul!’ ‘The world is foul, young Tim, but we build up a resistance, don’t we? We breathe its air, eat its food, do its doings. Yes. Yes, we do.

in the proper hand, any object can be magic. Now watch!’

But why look for storms that are still over the horizon, eh?

Marry in haste, repent at leisure, the old folken say.’

Pray for rain all you like, but dig a well as you do it.

The only stupid question, my cullies, is the one you don’t ask.

don’t we all have a tendency to massage our memories so they reflect our better selves?

Time is a keyhole, he thought as he looked up at the stars. Yes, I think so. We sometimes bend and peer through it. And the wind we feel on our cheeks when we do – the wind that blows through the keyhole – is the breath of all the living universe.

It was not fair, it was not fair, it was not fair. So cried his child’s heart, and then his child’s heart died a little. For that is also the way of the world.

Ye’ll have more to drink tonight, I have no doubt.’ She gave Jamie a roguish side-glance. ‘But ye’ll want to be careful when the toasts go around; too much drink can make a man less a man later on, and blur memories he might otherwise want to keep.’

When one is amazed and heartsick, it’s usually best to say nothing, for in that state, any word will be the wrong word.

If the sweetness of our lives did not depart, there would be no sweetness at all.

‘Luck’s the word those with poor hearts use for ka, Susannah of New York.’

The two most beautiful words in any language are I forgive.