Nobody died. how can you kill an idea? How can you kill the personification of an action?" "Then what died? who are you mourning?" "A point of view.

And, selfish and scared, I wonder how much more he has to give.

For some folks death is release, and for others death is an abomination, a terrible thing. But in the end, I'm there for all of them.

I think I’ll dismember the world and then I’ll dance in the wreckage.

I remember making that vow, the one not to forget. Not to remember what happened, but to remember who I was and how I felt.

The world always seems brighter when you've just made something that wasn't there before.

He was having more fun than a barrelful of monkeys.* *Several years earlier Spider had actually been tremendously disappointed by a barrelful of monkeys. It had done nothing he had considered particularly entertaining, apart from emit interesting noises, and eventually, once the noises had stopped and the monkeys were no longer doing anything at all—except possibly on an organic level—had needed to be disposed of in the dead of night.