“Daylight fires the ridges green, shifts the colors of the fog, touches the brick streets of Rock Camp with a reddish tone. The streetlights flicker out, and the traffic signal at the far end of Front Street's yoke snaps on; stopping nothing, warning nothing, rushing nothing on. --from The Honored Dead”

“Nothing is more deadly than a deserted, waiting street.”

“Rock bottom is good solid ground, and a dead end street is just a place to turn around.”

“Thanksgiving was nothing more than a pilgrim-created obstacle in the way of Christmas; a dead bird in the street that forced a brief detour.”

“...there's nothing more lovely than your lamplight, seen from a dark street...”

“Someone must have been in a rush to leave this morning," I told the door, trying to tamp down the major case of the willies the silent street was giving me. "Someone was just late for work, and they didn't quite close the door. That's all. There's nothing foreboding in a door that hasn't been shut all the way. There's nothing eerie in that at all. There's nothing creepy about the street...Oh, crap. Hello?”