“Spirit, who are you?' Andy demanded.Bobby remained silent, his entire body strained, his lips tightly together, his eyes bulging out. He was taking frantic, short breaths through his nose. His face was crimson.Spirit,' said Andy, 'I command you to tell us who you are in Jesus' name!'Don't you mention that name!' the spirit hissed and then cursed.I will mention that name again and again,' said Hank.You know that name has defeated you.”

“perhaps with the guardsman who had such brown eyes, and a mustache that curled up on either side of his nose like two waxed black laces, even as this guardsman, whose name you didn't ask calls out a name in his sleep that is not your name, you are dreaming about the road again. When”

“Who are you, Master?' he asked.'Eh, what?' said Tom sitting up, and his eyes glinting in the gloom. 'Don't you know my name yet? That's the only answer. Tell me, who are you, alone, yourself and nameless?”

“For it is not we who call God by these names. We do not invent them. On the contrary, if it depended on us, we would be silent about him, try to forget him, and disown all his names. We take no delight in the knowledge of his ways. We tend continually to oppose his names: his independence, sovereignty, righteousness, and love, and resist him in all his perfections. But it is God himself who reveals all his perfections and puts his names on our lips. It is he who gives himself these names and who, despite our opposition, maintains them. It is of little use to us to deny his righteousness: every day he demonstrates this quality in history. And so it is with all his attributes. He brings them out despite us. The final goal of all his ways is that his name will shine out in all his works and be written on everyone’s forehead (Rev. 22:4). For that reason we have no choice but to name him with the many names his revelation furnishes us.”

“Desperaux," she said. He saw his name on her lips."I honor you," whispered Desperaux. "I honor you.”

“What is your name?" she asked."Names are like clothes, lady. I have many.""And which one do you wear tonight?"The god smiled. She could see he liked her words. He pulled her to him, pressed his wolf lips to hers and said, "My name is Misery, and would you know yet more?""Yes," said the girl, breathing in his scent, the scent of something beautiful, strange and burned. "I would know more."He flicked at her lips with his tongue and whispered, "So is yours.”