Any thoughts of guilt, any feelings of regret, had faded. The desert had baked them out.
More Quotes from Stephen King:I don't like people. They fuck me up.
He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts
Other times I think about them, though all this October I have done so, it seems, because October is the time when men think mostly about far places and the roads which might get them there. I sit on the bench in front of Bell's Market and think about Homer Buckland and about the beautiful girl who leaned over to open his door when he come down that path with the full red gasoline can in his right hand she looked like a girl of no more than sixteen, a girl on her learner's permit, and her beauty was terrible, but I believe it would no longer kill the man it turned itself on for a moment her eyes lit on me, I was not killed, although part of me died at her feet.
I work until beer o'clock.
The terror, which would not end for another 28 years-if it ever did end-began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain.
The low bird is not picked tenderly out of the dust by its fellows; rather, it is dispatched quickly and without mercy.
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