It was one of those rare times when remembering the dead was more inmportant than tending to the needs of the living.

Never, never try to scope the market.

That is, Jack thought, the way of life. The horror changes us, because we can never forget. Cursed with memory. It starts when we're old enough to know what death is and realize that sooner or later we'll lose everyone we love. We're never the same. But somehow we're all right. We go on.

I really believe that everyone has a talent, ability, or skill that he can mine to support himself and to succeed in life.

These days, people spent too much time striving to understand their feelings - and then ended up with none that were genuine.

Thanks to the circus between my ears, I can seize upon the smallest disquieting observation and from it extrapolate a terror of cataclysmic proportions.

What will happen will happen. There is time for miracles until there is no more time, but time has no end.