“Roland, love means not being afraid to let yourself go, trusting that I will desire everything you have to offer. -Rosaline (Roland's love)”

“Friendship, Roland realized, was its very own kind of love.”

“What’s that mean?” Eddie asked. “I hate it when you start up with your Zen Buddhist shit, Roland.” “It means I don’t know,” Roland said. “Who is this man Zen Buddhist? Is he wise like me?” Eddie looked at Roland for a long, long time before deciding the gunslinger was making one of his rare jokes. “Ah, get outta here...”

“I mean who the hell do you think you are, exactly? Saint Roland of the Perpetual Martyrdom?”

“afraid of being discovered,afraid of not getting back the love you gave,afraid of him going away from your land,afraid of telling him you love him,afraid of looking into his eyes,afraid of everything and yet i am in love with him.”

“The scariest, most terrifying thing that I fear?"Yes."My Imagination."I thought you were going to say "Fear, itself."Then you have a small imagination."Roland and Eddie”