What is he a judge of?

If you can’t tell who the devil is you’re gonna have a bad time.

God speaks in bones and rocks. Those are his words.

They seem to have passed through into a world like ours but misshapen, malformed, put together wrong.

In the rain the world is almost melting.

Why is the book written to be so beautiful? Is it what draws men to violence: a beauty in the violence? Not much really happens in the novel except descriptions of violence, so what are we to make of this? Poetry?

Words are things. The words he is i possession of he cannot be deprived of.

All will be known to you at last. To you as to every man.

The family of magicians, the fortune telling, the city of decaying mud. They rode on. Through what he likens to a gun barrel with the moon at one and and the sun at the other and all violence in between. A journey to and through hell.

He uses simile for almost everything description – things are “like” other things, but not exactly. They’ve ridden out beyond the ending of the world to the very beginning of the world, lawless, chaotic, death everywhere. Even the sun is a lumbering beast that squats and pulses malevolently. Death, death, death.

Yet it’s somehow beautiful: Orion described as a giant electric kite, the lightening, the energy.