It hurt, of course, but more often than not the best things do, I've found.

She ran out of her marriage the way a woman can run out of a pair of sandals when she decides to let go and really dash.

Time slowed and reality bent; on and on the eggman went.

I don't really get philosophical, but I believe that nice people are strong and usually in my horror stories, I don't like to write about the old standard where some rotten guy gets chased by a mean spirit that gets him in the end.I'd rather write about nice people that are menaced from outside by some sort of evil power and who sort of slug it out.

My friend wants to get moving and so do I,' Eddie said. 'We've got miles to go yet.' I know that. It's on your face, son. Like a scar.' Eddie was fascinated by the idea of duty and ka as something that left a mark, something that might look like decoration to one eye and disfigurement to another. Outside, thunder cracked and lightning flashed.

Because things like this you can only ssay once. And you either get it wrong or right, it's the end either way, because it's too hard to ever try to say again.

Time apparently did nothing but blunt grief’s sharpest edge so that it hacked rather than sliced.