It was solitude, but it was solitude that wasn't lonely. Solitude that could sort things out. And he hadn't had that in ages.

Stories are important...They can be more important than anything. If they carry the truth.

"You can eff off, too," I say, except I don't say eff, I say what 'eff' stands for.

Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect.

And too much informayshun can drive a man mad. Too much informayshun becomes just Noise. And it never, never stops.

Faith with proof is no faith at all.

I just stand there like a doofus wondering just what in the effing blazes is going on.