Make no mistake, those who write long books have nothing to say. Of course those who write short books have even less to say.

I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I'm not. No one ever really gets used to nightmares.

You got a death wish, Truant?' Which was the thing that scared me. 'Cause maybe I did.

I must read. I must read. I must read.

Here then at long last is my darkness. No cry of light, no glimmer, not even the faintest shard of hope to break free across the hold.

Through all the windows I only see infinity.

For some reason, you will no longer be the person you believed you once were. You'll detect slow and subtle shifts going on all around you, more importantly shifts in you. Worse, you'll realize it's always been shifting, like a shimmer of sorts, a vast shimmer, only dark like a room. But you won't understand why or how.