Nightmares exist outside of logic, and there's little fun to be had in explanations; they're antithetical to the poetry of fear.

Do you need someone to make you a paper badge with the word WRITER on it before you can believe you are one? God I hope not.

You say true, I say thankya.

The universe (he said) offers a paradox too great for the finite mind to grasp. As the living brain cannot conceive of a nonliving brain — although it may think it can — the finite mind cannot grasp the infinite.

Maybe there's a whole other universe where a square moon rises in the sky, and the stars laugh in cold voices, and some of the triangles have four sides, and some have five, and some have five raised to the fifth power of sides. In this universe there might grow roses which sing. Everything leads to everything.

Twas something else. I had come to hate her, you see. I had come to wish her dead, and that was what held me back.

It was the possibility of darkness that made the day seem so bright.