I'm standing in a slaughterhouse where the cattle are begging to become hamburgers. I have a right to be jumpy.

The only way I can protect him now is to make sure he never understands how easy killing can become.

Fate has a twisted sense of humor.

Your mother all but accused me of something that is, among my kind, the highest crime a man can commit. There is no trial, only punishment, because it is considered better to let an innocent man die than let a guilty one live." (Page 79.)

A story isn't a charcoal sketch, where every stroke lies on the surface to be seen. It's an oil painting, filled with layers that the author must uncover so carefully to show its beauty.

We are not. We never were; we never shall be. We return to the void we never, for mehay is the center of all, and all is the center of nothing.

What one person does, several people usually consider.