What doesn't kill us sharpens us. Hardens us. Schools us. You're beating plowshares into swords, Vosch. You are remaking us. We are the clay, and you are Michelangelo. And we will be your masterpiece.

I am the one, Not Running, Not Staying, But FACING

I brought Sammy inside and put him to bed. Said his prayer with him. “‘Now I lay me down to sleep…’” To me, just random noise. Gibberish. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but I felt that, when it came to God, there was a broken promise in there somewhere.

But monsters, I now know, come in all shapes and sizes, and only their appetite for human flesh defines them.

There was, like, this black hole where the world used to be, and we were both falling toward it. What could we hold on to?

Still, you tend to believe what you always believed, think what you always thought, expect what you always expected

I thought I knew what loneliness was before he found me, but I had no clue. You don't know what real loneliness is until you've known the opposite.