Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism.

This wasn't any mere song and dance; here was a bold, blaring declaration howling itself into the empty face of death.

It seems that so much writing is being done in the nineteenth-century model, where every connection has to be thoroughly explained.

Where we're standing right now, in the ruins in the dark, what we build could be anything.

No, it's not fair, but what makes Earth feel like Hell is our expectation that it should feel like Heaven. Earth is earth. Dead is dead. You'll find out for yourself soon enough. It won't help the situation for you to get all upset.

A good story should change the way you see the world.

Believe in me and die forever.