If you ever know a man who tries to drown his sorrows, kindly inform him his sorrows know how to swim.

Images flicker, each one bringing its own sorrow or its own smile. Sometimes both. At the very worst, an impenetrable and sightless black and at best, a happiness so bright that it hurts the eyes to see, coming and going on some unseen projector perpetually turned by an invisible hand. One, then another. The hollow click of the shutter. Now stop. Freeze this frame. Pluck it down and hold it close and be damned by what you see. Henri always said: the price of a memory is the memory if the sorrow it brings.

Did you know Johnny thinks he's Pittacus resurrected?

Sometimes you can hide just as effectively by sticking out.

I’ve done what Lorien has intended me to do, and that’s to undo damage that’s been inflicted on those who don’t deserve it.

We will not conquer our obstacles by running away from them. Speed does not matter, just that we do not stop.

My iPod rumbles again. It's not actually an iPod. It doesn't play any music and the earbuds are just for show. It's a gadget that Sandor put together in his lab. It's my Mogadorian detector. I call it my iMog.