The first real terror struck him then, and there was nothing supernatural about it. It was only a realization of how easy it was to trash your life. That was what was so scary. You just dragged the fan up to everything you had spent the years raking together and turned the motherfucker on.

I was built with a love of the night and the unquiet coffin.

Shall there be truth between us, as two men? Not as friends, but as enemies and equals?

I'm afraid of all kinds of things. I'm afraid of failing at whatever story I'm writing - that it won't come up for me, or that I won't be able to finish it.

When a man has died, he wants you to know about it.

Pride was the belt you used to hold your pants up when you had no pants.

But in high school the business of irrevocable choices began. Doors slipped shut with a faint locking click that was only heared clearly in the dreams of later years.