“You! You are so lucky you're dead.”

“You must be careful, Harper. You're stubborn, hardheaded, scientific practicalist, and all of this seems like a nightmare to you that you hope will simply evaporate when you wake up. But you don't wake up from this.”

“Terror is the instinct that tells you to run, dear God, run, she murmured. Run for your life. But it just makes you into meat. Predators take the ones who run. Horror is the mind-thing, the worm of knowledge you can't stop turning over no matter how awful it is. It grows in your mind and destroys you by your own intelligence.”

“I threw my arms around him. “I yearn only for you.” Quinton gave a self-conscious shrug and an embarrassed laugh. “I feel the same way about you and I’m sorry I’m  .  .  . being an ass. Also, I suspect you just wanted to use ‘yearn’ in a sentence.”

“Are you at work?" I asked. Not precisely, but that's a good suggestion....”

“Fall?” he repeated. “Say more like flying, as if someone threw you. What  .  .  . was that?” I chewed on my words before I let them out. “I  .  .  . sometimes have little disagreements with  .  .  . um, with reality. And physics.”

“So what building are we breaking into? Give me all the information you've got and I'll hunt down the rest. By the way, when are we doing this?" I glanced up. "Tonight." Tonight? Oh, boy... Miracles 'R' Us. I assume that we're not going to go and ask permission for this.”