I remember a story I once heard about drowning: that when you fall into cold water it's not that you drown right away but that the cold disorients you and makes you think that down is up and up is down, so you may be swimming, swimming, swimming for your life in the wrong direction, all the way toward the bottom until you sink. That's how I feel, as though everything has been turned around.

That's what Zombieland is: frozen, calm, quiet.

How can someone have the power to shatter you to dust--and also to make you feel so whole?

that's what it was like waking up in the crypts. no-longer-dead. but without her. like burning alive.

Droplets, droplets: We are all identical drips and drops of people, hovering, waiting to be tipped, waiting for someone to show us the way, to pour us down a path. ... He has tipped us over, all of us in our teetering expectancy, and now we are pouring toward him, coursing on a wave of sound, of roaring shouts and applause. ... They are the moon; we are a tide, their tide, and under their direction we will wipe clean all the sickness and blight from the world.

The flip side of freedom is this: When you're completely free, you're also completely on your own.

A string of bright white buildinh, glistening like teeth over the slurping mouth of the ocean.