The right belief is like a good cloak, I think. If it fits you well, it keeps you warm and safe. The wrong fit however, can suffocate.

‎"To Parlin's mind, nothing showed affection like a hunk of something dead and bleeding on the table.

Why did they believe? Because they saw miracles. Things one man took as chance, a man of faith took as a sign. A loved one recovering from disease, a fortunate business deal, a chance meeting with a long lost friend. It wasn't the grand doctrines or the sweeping ideals that seemed to make believers out of men. It was the simple magic in the world around them.

To believe, it seemed, one had to want to believe.

You'll never learn how to do your endings until you FINISH your endings.

Wherever it may be, whoever may hold it. That's who I am.

I've seen Steelheart bleed