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

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

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

That's what you do when the curtain is falling--you give the line that the audience wants to hear.

I don't care what the stars say about how small we are. One, even the smallest, weakest, most insignificant one, matters.

So often the monsters that crowd our minds are nothing more than the strange and thoroughly alien progeny of our own fearful fantasies.

It isn't that the lies are too beautiful to resist. It's that the truth is too hideous to face.