All the stories are fictions. What matters is which fiction you believe.

Remember, the enemy's gate is down.

She likes us,” said Umbo. “I know, I could feel it too,” said Rigg. “She’s really glad to have us here. I think she loves us like her own children.” “Whom she murdered and cut up into the stew.” “They were delicious.

Oh, Val," said Father. "All you have to do is live your life, and everyone around you will be happier." "No greatness, then." "Val," said Mother, "goodness trumps greatness any day." "Not in the history books," said Valentine. "Then the wrong people are writing history, aren't they?" said Father.

The worst thing about the fantasies of the mentally ill is that they're so damned consistent. They never let up. They never give you any rest.

Life is full of grief, to exactly the degree we allow ourselves to love other people.

You killed more people than anybody in history." "Be the best at whatever you do, that's what my mother always told me.