Any view of things that is not strange, is false.
That which is dreamed can never be lost, can never be undreamed.
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.
What need, Dunstan wondered, could someone have of the storm-filled eggshells?
He was alone in the darkness once more, but the darkness became brighter and brighter until it was burning like the sun.
You know what killed off the dinosaurs, Whateley? We did. In one barbecue.