You never know when the truth will come home. You can't choose the time. The time chooses you.

What boy my age didn’t dream of fleeing the well-tended lawn and lamp-lit street for the untamed wilderness, where grand adventure awaited on the other side of the horizon, where the stars burned undimmed in the velvet sky above his head and the virgin ground lay untrodden beneath his feet?

When I cry - when I let myself cry - that's who I cry for. I don't cry for myself. I cry for the Cassie that's gone. And I wonder what that Cassie would think of me. The Cassie who kills.

Yes, my dear child, monsters are real. I happen to have one hanging in my basement.

A man lies upon the floor, spreads his arms, and transforms himself into a ship of a thousand sails.

I didn't show up here to give your life purpose now that your life's over. That's up to you to figure out.

The kid who didn't go back when he should have and now goes back when he shouldn't. The kid called Zombie, who made a promise, and if he breaks that promise, the war is over - not the big war, but the war that matters, the one in the battlefield of his heart. Because promises matter. They matter now more than ever.