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[Pippin: I didn't think it would end this way.]
Gandalf: End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path... One that we all must take. The grey rain curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass. And then you see it.
[Pippin: What, Gandalf? See what?]
Gandalf: White shores... And beyond. A far green country, under a swift sunrise.
[Pippin: Well... That isn't so bad.]
Gandalf: No. No, it isn't.
The day trembled on the edge of extinction. The houses slept in darkness. Downtown, night lights in the hardware store and the Foreman Funeral Home and the Excellent Cafe threw mild electric light onto the pavement. Some lay awake- George Boyer, who had just gotten home from the three-to-eleven shift at the Gates Mill; Win Purinton, sitting and playing solitaire and unable to sleep for thinking of his Doc, whose passing had affected him much more deeply than that of his wife- but most slept the sleep of the just and hard-working.
In Harmony Hill Cemetery, a dark figure stood meditatively inside the gate, waiting for the turn of time. When he spoke, the voice was soft and cultured.
"O my father, favor me now. Lord of Flies, favor me now. Now I bring you spoiled meat and reeking flesh. I have made sacrifice in your favor. With my left hand I bring it. Make a sign for me on this ground, consecrated in your name. I wait for a sign to begin your work."
The voice died away. A wind had sprung up, gentle, bringing with it the sigh and whisper of leafy branches and grasses and a whiff of carrion from the dump up the road.
There was no sound, but that brought up the breeze. The figure stood silent and thoughtful for a time. Then it stooped and stood with the figure of a child in his arms.
"I bring you this."
It became unspeakable.
- 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King
Next up, Interesting Times by Terry Pratchett (Pratchett might be the most quotable author ever). This is probably my favorite book I've ever read. If you haven't already, go out and read some of Pratchett's Discworld. You can thank me later.Spoiler ShowAll over. Beat them. Ender didn't understand. "I beat you."
Mazer laughed, a loud laugh that filled the room. "Ender, you never played me. You never played a game since I became your enemy.
Ender didn't get the joke.
"You see dat?"
"It just went plop off dat log."
"I reckon... I reckon... like, I reckon der world is carried on der back of one of dem."
A moment of silence while this astrophysical hypothesis is considered, and then...
"The whole world?"
"Of course, when I say one of dem, I mean a big one of dem."
"It'd have to be, yeah."
"Like... really big."
"'S funny, but... I see what you mean."
"Makes sense, right."
"Makes sense, yeah. Thing is..."
"I just hope it never goes plop."
And of course Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman's Good Omens. The whole first chapter qualifies as my favorite passage ever, but I'm too lazy to type it up, so you get a little snippet.Many things went on at Unseen University and, regrettably, teaching had to be one of them. The faculty had long ago confronted this fact and had perfected various devices for avoiding it. But this was perfectly all right because, to be fair, so had the students.
It wasn't a dark and stormy night.
It should have been, but that's the weather for you. For every mad scientist who's had a convenient thunderstorm just on the night his Great Work is finished and lying on the slab, there have been dozens who've sat around aimlessly under the peaceful stars while Igor clocks up the overtime.