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Destroy the secrets, burn the clues, it’s a mystery no living hand will ever solve.
Simile
Simile
the inside of the nest, the black and alien place, came a never-to-be-forgotten sound: a low, somnolent buzz, like the sound of high-tension wires.
Simile
“Fire,” Daddy had said, turning to Jacky with a smile. “Fire will kill anything.”
Simile
A sweat of terror sprang to his hands
(He was going downhill, going ninety miles an hour, when the whistle broke into a scream—)
(—they found him in the wreck with his hand on the throttle, he was scalded to death by the steam.)
Boxcar Willie - Wreck of the Old '97
http://www.songlyrics.com/boxcar-willie/wreck-of-the-old-97-lyrics/
Woods Guthrie version:
https://www.woodyguthrie.org/Lyrics/Wreck_Of_The_Old_97.htm
He had broken two of the blisters. His hands throbbed like rotten teeth.
Simile
cooking sherry.
Cooking sherry is a fine go-to .... for an alcoholic.
That’s the delusion
It hadn’t been the voice of his father but a clever mimic.
Was it so near, then?
some sort of silvery, spangled costume.
A dog costume,
Harry Derwent’s
No one was hearing this but him.
The hotel was running things now.
The Overlook hadn’t wanted him to go to his father. That might spoil all the fun.
“I’ll make you stop it! You goddam puppy! I’ll make you stop it because I am your FATHER!”
they both heard the vicious, descending swing of the invisible club,
The Overlook was not going to let him call Dick. That might spoil the fun, too.
“I’m the only man here, sir. Every other ranger in the park, plus game wardens, plus volunteers, are up in Hasty Notch, risking their lives because three stupid assholes with six months’ experience decided to try the north face of King’s Ram. They’re stuck halfway up there and maybe they’ll get down and maybe they won’t. There are two choppers up there and the men who are flying them are risking their lives because it’s night here and it’s starting to snow.
This country must swear off its dirty little wars. The CIA has been at the root of every dirty little war America has fought in this century. The CIA and dollar diplomacy.”
Haha - politics!
All the hotel’s eras were together now, all but this current one, the Torrance Era. And this would be together with the rest very soon now.
Hallucination?
Charles Grondin and Vito Gienelli
He could almost…no, strike the almost. He could hear them, faintly as yet, but clearly—the way one can hear thunder miles off on a hot summer’s day.
Simile
The past is present
the backbar with its rows of dimly gleaming bottles,
Every booth was occupied.
man in a silvery dog outfit
With Danny, p. 493
his eyes were socketed in shadow and his skin was horribly white, like the skin of a corpse.
Simile
Horace Derwent,
his plague-riddled face,
Now drink your drink.” “Drink your drink,” they all echoed.
the gin highballing down his throat like a moving van in a tunnel,
Simile
Mr. President, I have met the martians and am pleased to report they are friendly.
Haha
(The arguments against insanity fall through with a soft shurring sound
Pedestrian poetry by King?
“The arguments against insanity fall through with a soft shirring sound;
these are the sounds of dead voices on dead records
floating down the broken shaft of memory.
When I turn to you to ask if you remember,
When I turn to you in our bed”
― Stephen King, Lisey's Story
Incidents seemed to have occurred with no connections.
Delbert Grady.”
“The manager,” Grady said. “The hotel, sir. Surely you realize who hired you, sir.”
You must show them the error of their ways, Mr. Torrance. Do you agree?” “Yes. I do.”
Your son has a very great talent, one that the manager could use to even further improve the Overlook,
A certain scrapbook was left in the basement for you to find—” “By whom?” Jack asked eagerly. “By the manager, of course.
Let us say that your future here is contingent upon how you decide to deal with your son’s waywardness.”
Roll over. Sit up. Play dead. If you play the game with us, we’ll play the game with you. Position of responsibility. They wanted him to sacrifice his son.
(a fire?… in August?… yes… and no… all times are one)
somewhere a dog was howling in human tones.
(But clockwork can’t bleed clockwork can’t bleed)
