2.4 KiB
Title: Pet Sematary
Author: Stephen King
Started Reading: unknown
Finished Reading: unknown
This is probably my all-time favorite book.
Highlights
That’s what you do, all right, he thought with immeasurable relief. You pass it like a stone, and that’s the end of it... unless there comes a campfire some night with friends when the wind is high and the talk turns to inexplicable events. Because on campfire nights when the wind is high, talk is cheap.
He raised his face into the wind after the door had clicked closed, the garbage bag with Church’s body in it riffling between his feet. Content. Yes, he was. For the first time since they had moved to Maine, he felt that he was in his place, that he was home. Standing here by himself in the afterglow of the day, standing on the rim of winter, he felt unhappy and yet oddly exhilarated and strangely whole—whole in a way he had not been, or could not remember feeling that he had been, since childhood. Something gonna happen here, Bubba. Something pretty weird, I think.
Days which seem genuinely good—good all the way through—are rare enough anyway, he thought. It might be that there was less than a month of really good ones in any natural man's life in the best of circumstances. It came to seem to Louis that God, in His infinite wisdom, seemed much more generous when it came to doling out pain.
It's probably wrong to believe there can be any limit to the horror which the human mind can experience. On the contrary, it seems that some exponential effect begins to obtain as deeper and deeper darkness falls—as little as one may like to admit it, human experience tends, in a good many ways, to support the idea that when the nightmare grows black enough, horror spawns horror, one coincidental evil begets other, often more deliberate evils, until finally blackness seems to cover everything. And the most terrifying question of all may be just how much horror the human mind can stand and still maintain a wakeful, staring, unrelenting sanity. That such events have their own Rube Goldberg absurdity goes almost without saying. At some point, it all starts to become rather funny. That may be the point at which sanity begins either to save itself or to buckle and break down; that point at which one's sense of humor begins to reassert itself.
Tags: booknotes