...there was a difference between killing for nourishment and killing for curiosity or sport.

The human body was nothing more than a well-oiled machine that was slowly burning itself out of fuel, ticking along until it returned to the inertia of nonexistence.

Maybe in a way all living things are like flickering flames in a precarious night, always on the verge of being extinguished. Whether we kindle slowly but steadily, or go out in a brilliant burst of light and color, is our choice. Perhaps the most important choice we'll ever have.

Death is one lover who cannot be spurned.

He was a phoenix of blood, rising from the ashes of those who had fallen and suffered before him.

That's why all humans are so afraid to die. Nobody wants to think they don't matter.

Sleeping is terrifying.When you close your eyes and surrender your consciousness to the void, you lose yourself—voluntarily—and you're trustingly assuming you'll find yourself back out of the labyrinth again.Usually you do.But sometimes you don't.It's that uncertainty, more than anything, which kills me. That I might not wake up, and wouldn't know it.That I could be dead, dreaming I'm alive.

Now she knew living was just a brief hiatus, a blip really, in the infinite line of nothingness that composed that shadowy realm of the unknown. It could stop at any time.

Deep space rendered mortal time-lines inconsequential. Few things were as old, or pervasive, as the vast, encroachingdarkness of the universe.