This surpassed the fear of death. Death would be a mercy if it would make the feeling stop, the uncontrollable panic mingling with the mind-scrambling certainty of something sinister approaching, something with no need to hurry, something that would not be so kind as to let him die. The fear was palpable, suffocating, irresistible.

Hello, cell. How are you? Still dank and dirty? Me? I've taken up a new habit: talking to my cell. It's like talking to myself but slightly more pathetic.

I blush to think of her beholding my work," Verl confessed. So do we," Newel assured him.

Jason decided not to add that the best way to get him to focus on something was to tell him not to think about it.

Patience mimics the power of infinity.

Let's worry about fixing the problem instead of the blame.

I will not know that day has come because I will not stop trying.