What, are you totally psycho?" I shouted. "Maybe I am!" he screamed back at me. "Maybe that's just what I am. Maybe I'm that quiet guy who suddenly goes nuts and then you find half the neighborhood in his freezer." I gotta admit, that one stumped me for a second - but only for a second. "Which half?" I asked. "Huh?" "Which half of the neighborhood? Could you make it the people on the other side of Avenue T, because I never really liked them anyway.

It's amazing how people can surprise you.

Love turns a heart to crystal...Much more valuable, but much more fragile.

The woman wears a floral print blouse with lots of leaves and pink flowers. Risa would like to attack her with a weed whacker.

How easy is murder when one calls it by a different name? How much easier is it for the conscience to condone "reaping" than "killing"-and when one knows that death isn't the end, does it stop the killing hand for fear of retribution, or does it simply make it easier to kill, because, if life continues, how can murder be murder at all?

It's a big question. Where do you begin to change the world?

They were the screams of riders torn apart by the twisted reflections of their own inner selves.