That's what Archie did - built a house nobody could anticipate a need for, except himself, a house that was invisible to everyone else.

Do I dare disturb the universe? Yes, I do, I do. I think. Jerry suddenly understood the poster--the solitary man on the beach standing upright and alone and unafraid, poised at the moment of making himself heard and known in the world, the universe.

I have always had a sense that we are all pretty much alone in life, particularly in adolescence.

Don't miss the bus, boy. You're missing a lot of things in the world, better not miss that bus.

Archie became absolutely still, afraid that the rapid beating of his heart might betray his sudden knowledge, the proof of what he'd always suspected, not only of Brother Leon but most grownups, most adults: they were vulnerable, running scared, open to invasion.

The beautiful part of writing is that you don't have to get it right the first time, unlike, say, a brain surgeon. You can always do it better, find the exact word, the apt phrase, the leaping simile.

Cities fell. Earth opened. Planets tilted. Stars plummeted. And the awful silence.