Horror was rooted in sympathy . . . in understanding what it would be like to suffer the worst.

I mean, when the world comes for your children, with the knives out, it's your job to stand in the way.

I have nothing to say for myself, only that I have always tried to make this earth a little bit better

Music [is] the third rail of life. You grabbed it to shock yourself out of the dull drag of hours. To feel something. To burn with all the emotions you didn't get to experience in the ordinary run of school, TV, and loading the dishwasher after dinner.

I remember an era when you could get your nose sliced off for sticking it too far into another man's business. Now you can find out anything about anyone with the click of a button. There is no privacy and no consideration, and everyone is prying into things that aren't their affair. You can probably check on the intertube and find out what color underwear I have on today.

There's only room for one hero in this story-and everyone knows the devil doesn't get to be the good guy.

Well. That's helpful. We'll put an APB out on the Gingerbread Man. I'm not hopeful it'll do us much good, though. Word on the street is you can't catch him.