Besides, killing all the humans will totally trash the cable schedule, and there are some shows I'm really excited to have back on the air.

Everyone thinks of them in terms of poisoned apples and glass coffins, and forgets that they represent girls who walked into dark forests and remade them into their own reflections.

I was still wearing my shoes. The staff was paid to wash the sheets after every visit, and by the point we left the field, I’d dressed and undressed so many times in the course of decontamination that I never wanted to remove my clothes again. I’d just wear them until they dissolved, and then spend the rest of my life naked.

I guess in the end, it doesn’t matter what we wanted. What matters is what we chose to do with the things we had.

Running around in the grass near an unsecured structure and a bunch of trees is a good way of taking yourself out of the gene pool.

...but that was the thing about reality. It didn't need to make sense.

She told the truth as she saw it, and she died for it. I came along for the ride, and I lived. It wasn't worth it. But it was the truth, and it was what had to happen.