“Life is like Friday on a soap opera. It gives you the illusion that everything is going to wrap up, and then the same old shit starts up on Monday.”

“Time, Eddie had decided during this period, was in large part created by external events. When a lot of interesting shit was happening, time seemed to go by fast. If you got stuck with nothing but the usual boring shit, it slowed down. And when everything stopped happening, time apparently quit altogether. Just packed up and went to Coney Island. Weird but true.”

“When all else fails, give up and go to the library.”

“We're here to fuck shit up”

“Say, darling, I'm giving you this wonderful present, it's a machine that eats at one end and shits out the other, it's going to run for fifteen years, give or take, merry fucking Christmas.”

“It's like the old pie-in-the-face routine: it stops being funny when it starts being you.”

“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...”