As destruction goes, the monster said behind him, this is all remarkably pitiful.

We don't say nothing more. What else is there to say? Everything and nothing. You can't say everything, so you don't say nothing.

It's not how we fall. It's how we get back up again.

Here's what I think," I say and my voice is stronger and thoughts are coming, thoughts that trickle into my noise like whispers of truth. "I think maybe everybody falls," I say. "I think maybe we all do. And I don't think that's the asking." I pull on her arms gently to make sure she's listening. "I think the asking is whether we get back up again.

In this world of numbness and information overload, the ability to feel, my boy, is a rare gift indeed.

Stories don’t end with the writers, however many started the race.

Noise ain't Truth, Noise is what men want to be true, and there's a difference twixt those two things so big that it could ruddy well kill you if you don't watch out.