Sara J. (kefuwa)’s Reviews > It > Status Update

"Eddie had drawn his aspirator. He looked liked a crazed malnourished gunslinger with some weird pistol."

But who knows how long a grief may last? Isn't it possible that, even thirty or forty years after the death of a child or a brother or a sister, one may half-waken thinking of that person with that same lost emptiness, that feeling of places which may never be filled ... perhaps not even in death?

Man he hated when Richie called him Eds... but he had sort of liked it too.... It was something... like a secret name. A secret identity. A way to be people that had nothing to do with parents' fears, hopes, constant demands. Richie couldn't do his beloved Voices for shit, but maybe he did know how important it was for creeps like them to sometimes be different people.

You think too much, Bill. No - that wasn't the problem. The problem was, he -imagined- too much.

And once dreams become real, they escaped the power of the dreamer and became their own deadly things, capable of independent action. The ... had worked because the seven of them had been unified in their belief that they would.

But it's really faith that monsters live on, isn't it? I am led irresistibly to this conclusion: food may be life, but the source of power is faith, not food. And who is more capable of a total act of faith than a child?

"You ever notice, Richie, how grown ups won't see you anything except candy or comic books or maybe movie tickets without first they want to know what you want it for?" "Sure," Richie said. " Why? Why is that" "Because they think we're dangerous." "Yeah? You think so?" "Yeah," Richie said, and then giggled.

... sigh, worst place to have to stop a book and go back to work! (flipping between the present and the past - both story lines about to come to heads!) - I just want to finished this consarn it!

"I feel like a bird must feel when fall comes and it knows... somehow it just knows it has to fly home. It's instinct, babe... and I guess I believe instinct's the iron skeleton under all our ideas of free will. Unless you're willing to take the pipe or eat the gun or take a long walk off a short dock, you can't say no to some things. You can't refuse to pick up your option because there is no option."