What's wrong with people?" she says, almost too quiet for me to hear. "Were they born with parts missing or did it fall out somewhere along the way?

The kind of stuff I usually read is a bit more on the literary side, like books that I think are influential in the sense that they're doing pulpy subject matter in a refined way. Like 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy, I loved that book.

We will cry and bleed and lust and love, and we will cure death. We will be the cure. Because we want it.

Every experience, good or bad, is a priceless collector's item.

The moment the light went out, everyone stopped pretending.

I wonder how well she sleeps at night, and what kind of dreams she has. I wish I could step into them like she steps into mine.

Are we all just Dark Age doctors, swearing by our leeches? We crave a greater science. We want to be proven wrong.