You see, freedom has a way of destroying things.

Reality had no gears, and you never knew what surprises would come spinning out of its chaos.

Cure for writer's block: blow something up(in the story)

He squeezed her hand. "Then I'll come get you, wherever you are when it happens. We'll be okay." "But what about everybody else?" He stared out across the river, nodding slowly. "My guess is, everybody else is in big trouble.

Maybe this was how you stayed sane in wartime: a handful of noble deeds amid the chaos.

What did a happy ending even mean in real life, anyway? In stories you simply said, 'They lived happily ever after,' and that was it. But in real life people had to keep on living, day after day, year after year.

Come on, it's almost midnight. Let's go watch them cut the cake.