Human understanding is fallible, and we see through a glass, darkly. Any religion is a shadow of God. But the shadows of God are not God.

There is something powerful in the whispering of obscenities, about those in power. There's something delightful about it, something naughty, secretive, forbidden, thrilling. It's like a spell, of sorts. It deflates them, reduces them to the common denominator where they can be dealt.

Craziness was considered funny, like all other things that were in reality frightening and profoundly shameful.

Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been.

There's something to be said for hunger: at least it lets you know you're still alive.

Vampires get the joy of flying around and living forever, werewolves get the joy of animal spirits. But zombies, they're not rich, or aristocratic, they shuffle around. They're a group phenomenon, they're not very fast, they're quite sickly. So what's the pleasure of being one?

Neither of us says the word love, not once. It would be tempting fate; it would be romance, bad luck.