I'm alone. And I'm crying. And no one is coming to the crib. And the nightlight has burned out. And I'm mad. I'm so mad. Left frontal lobe. I...I...I don't feel so good. Left occipital lobe. I... don't remember where...Left parietal lobe. I...I...I can't remember my name,but...but...Right temporal...but I'm still here. Right frontal. I'm still here... Right occipital.I'm still...Right parietal. I'm...Cerebellum. I'm...Thalamus. I...Hypothalamus. I...Hippocampus...Medulla.

You don’t just go to somebody and say, ‘I’m a better person because you’re in my head.

Connor smiles with mocking warmth at him, and glances at the tattoo on his wrist. "I like your dolphin.

Death doesn't just make all the world kin, it makes all religions one

Stupid dreams. Even the good ones are bad, because they remind you how poorly reality measures up.

The rides are different for everyone. I'm convinced of that now. I mean, sure, there are some we ride together. Either we find ourselves drawn to some common experience, or maybe we're pulled in by the people we care about. Our friends, our families can drag us onto coasters and Tilt-A-Whirls that are really meant for them. But in the end, no matter whose rides we find ourselves on, the experience is all our own.

He's become like that briefcase in the ground-full of gems yet void of light, so nothing sparkles, nothing shines.