You can run away, but darkness has quick feet and large wings, and it will follow you...

Before we begin, I want your word that much of what I show you tonight stays between us.

It has been said that nature does not know extinction. In effect, it knows only change: nothing ever truly disappears, for there is always something – some part, some particle, some formidable semblance – left behind. You can boil water into vapor, but it hasn’t disappeared. Curiosity killed the cat, but condensation brought it back.

All good books are honest books.

Small towns are secrets kept by the elderly.

The shallow forests toward the west glowed with an almost preternatural haze, and the highway blacktop shimmered beneath a slick cocktail of rainwater and motor oil.

I’m so sick of political correctness. I’m suffocated by it. We’re so goddamn politically correct that we lose our individualism, our definition as human beings. Don’t you agree?

There was sadness in her eyes, a tired resignation.

[...] the thought of entering that stale, tomb-like house again caused my skin to break out into braille.