Harvey wasn't interested in the clothes, it was the masks that mesmerized him. They were like snowflakes: no two alike. Some were made of wood and of plastic; some of straw and cloth and papier-mรขchรฉ. Some were as bright as parrots, others as pale as parchment. Some were so grotesque he was certain they'd been carved by crazy people; others so perfect they looked like the death masks of angels. There were masks of clowns and foxes, masks like skulls decorated with real teeth, and one with carved flames instead of hair.
Clive BarkerThose old hypocrites. They talk about killing witches but the Good Bookโs full of magic. Turning the Nile to blood and parting the Red Sea. Whatโs that if itโs not good old-fashioned magic? Want a little water into wine? No trouble! How about raising the dead man Lazarus? Just say the word!
Clive BarkerYou'll learn, honey. Love can be the best thing in life. And it can be the worst. The absolute worst.
Clive BarkerWe're both thieves, Harvey Swick. I take time. You take lives. But in the end we're the same: both Thieves of Always.
Clive Barker