in dreams it is often the case that the greatest extravagances seem bereft of their power to astonish and the most improbable chimeras seem commonplace.

Each the others world entire.

You either stick or you quit. And I wouldnt quit you I dont care what you done.

A dream inside a dream might not be a dream.

The world is quite ruthless in selecting between the dream and the reality, even where we will not.

When you die it's the same as if everybody else did too.

By early evening all the sky to the north had darkened and the spare terrain they trod had turned a neuter gray as far as the eye could see. They grouped in the road at the top of a rise and looked back. The storm front towered above them and the wind was cool on their sweating faces. They slumped bleary-eyed in their saddles and looked at one another. Shrouded in the black thunderheads the distant lightning glowed mutely like welding seen through foundry smoke. As if repairs were under way at some flawed place n the iron dark of the world.