Our story opens where countless stories have ended in the last twenty-six years: with an idiot -- in this case, my brother, Shaun -- deciding it would be a good idea to go out and poke a zombie with a stick to see what happens.

People say things like "it wasn't supposed to go this way" and "this isn't what I wanted." They're just making noise. There's no such thing as "supposed to," and what you want doesn't matter. All that matters is what happened.

Some lines were never meant to be crossed, however good your cause may seem.

The only thing we have in this world that is utterly and intrinsically ours is our integrity.

Since Dominic's been sleeping with me, the mice have been trying various labels on him, looking for one that fits. My personal favorite was the week they spent calling him "the God of Absolutely Never Smiling, No, Not Ever.

I'm a decent sprinter and I can gun a motorcycle from zero to suicidal in less than ten seconds.

That's the nice thing about insanity: evil people kill you, but crazy ones try to make you understand.