Feemalo said, "There were times when Los' would make us divide into six, or even seven, and for no other reason than because it hurt. Yet we could leave no more than anyone else in the castle could, for he'd set a dead-line around its walls."

"We thought he'd kill us all before he left," Fumalo said, and with none of his previous fuck-you cynicism. His face wore the long and introspective expression of one who looks back on a disaster perhaps averted by mere inches.

Feemalo: "He did kill a great many. Beheaded his Minister of State."

Fumalo: "Who had advanced syphilis and no more idea what was happening to him than a pig in a slaughterhouse chute, more's the pity."

Feemalo: "He lined up the kitchen staff and the women o' work-"

Fumalo: "All of whom had been very loyal to him, very loyal indeed-"

Feemalo: "And made them take poison as they stood in front of him. He could have killed them in their sleep if he'd wanted to-"

Fumalo: "And by no more than wishing it on them."

Feemalo: "But instead he made them take poison. Rat poison.

They swallowed large brown chunks of it and died in convulsions right in front of him as he sat on his throne-"

Fumalo: "Which is made of skulls, do ye ken-"

Feemalo: "He sat there with his elbow on his knee and his fist on his chin, like a man thinking long thoughts, perhaps about squaring the circle or finding the Ultimate Prime Number, all the while watching them writhe and vomit and convulse on the floor of the Audience Chamber." - The Dark Tower