Charlie Marlowe never wrote horror, but somehow horror was writing Charlie Marlowe.
Whether love of friend, love of country, love of God, or even love of enemyโlove reveals to us the truly miraculous nature of the human spirit.
Sometimes there is such beauty in awkwardness.
Some things just wonโt go away, no matter how hard you scrub.
I wasn't certain of anything anymore, except that New Orleans was a faithless friend and I wanted to leave her.
I planted a seed of hatred in my heart. I swore it would grow to be a massive tree whose roots would strangle them all.