Urania Blackwell: I only have two kinds of dreams: the bad and the terrible. Bad dreams I can cope with. They’re just nightmares, and they end eventually. The terrible dreams are the good dreams. In my terrible dreams, everything’s fine. I’m still with the company. I still look like me. None of the last five years ever happened. Sometimes I’m married. Once I even had kids. I even knew their names. Everything’s wonderful and normal and fine. And then I wake up, and I’m still me. And I’m still here. And that is truly terrible.
Death: When the first thing existed, I was there, waiting. When the last living thing dies, my job will be finished. I’ll put the chairs on the, turn out the lights and lock the universe behind me when I leave.
Dream: He heard long ago, in a dream, that one day every century Death takes on mortal flesh, better to comprehend what the lives she takes must feel like, to taste the bitter tang of mortality: that this is the price she must pay for being the divider of the living from all that has gone before, all that must come after. He broods on this tale, but has never questioned her about its truth. Perhaps he fears that she would answer him.
Lucifer: “The Devil made me do it.” I have never made one of them do anything. Never. They live their own tiny lives. I do not live their lives for them. And then they die, and they come here (having traversed against what they believed to be right), and expect us to fulfill their desire for pain and retribution. I don’t make them come here.
The Creator [through Remiel]: Hell is Heaven’s reflection. It is Heaven’s shadow. They define each other. Reward and Punishment; hope and despair. There must be a Hell, for without Hell, Heaven has no meaning. And thus Hell must be.
St-Just: We are remaking the world, woman; we are creating an age of pure reason. We have taken the names of dead gods and kings from the days of the week and the months of the year. We have lost the saints and burnt the churches. I myself have inaugurated a new religion, based on reason, celebrating an egalitarian supreme being, distant and uninvolved.
Caeser Augustus: But you should fear me. Not because I’m fast. And I am fast. And not because I’m strong. And I am strong. But because if I gave the word tonight, you would disappear, and no one would even date to mention that you had ever existed. And no one would dare complain. Because the alternative to me is chaos.
October knew, of course, that the action of turning a page, of ending a chapter or shutting a book, did not end a tale. Having admitted that, he would also avow that happy endings were never difficult to find: “It is simply a matter,” he explained to April, “of finding a sunny place in a garden, where the light is golden and the grass is soft; somewhere to rest, to stop reading, and to be content.
- from The Man Who Was October by G.K. Chesterton/ Library of Dreams
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