The Gunslinger (The Dark Tower, #1)

by Stephen King

Above, the stars were unwinking, also constant. Suns and worlds by the million. Dizzying constellations, cold fire in every primary hue. As he watched, the sky washed from violet to ebony. A meteor etched a brief, spectacular arc below Old Mother and winked out.

What I wouldn’t give to see this! It sounds beautiful.

The stars were as indifferent to this as they were to wars, crucifixions, resurrections. This also would have pleased him.

and behind him, in the dreadful silence, the boy spoke from too far beneath him. “Go then. There are other worlds than these.”

He fled the light and the knowledge the light implied, and so came back to himself. Even so do the rest of us; even so the best of us.