“I had someone at the Houston police station shoot me with heroin so I could do a story about it. The experience was a special kind of hell. I came out understanding full well how one could be addicted to 'smack,' and quickly.”

“I'd made water shoot out of the bathroom fixtures. I didn't understand how. But the toilets responded to me. I had become one with the plumbing.”

“I could train myself out of all this. Like a smoker, I could cut down. Like a drinker, I could kick the bottle. Like someone in love, I could learn to redesign the route to my heart so someone else stood a chance in hell of navigating it. I could do this.”

“Two minutes worth of signal analysis told me all I needed to know. This station "talks" to the dark matter universe about what goes on inside.""How did you cobble together a jammer so quickly?""I had one on me.”

“I didn't want to understand. Bert had been thrilled that the police wanted to put me on retainer. He told me I would gain valuable experience working with the police. All I had gained so far was a wider variety of nightmares.”

“All the beasts of Hell knew they couldn't stop me. I was the archangel Gabriel, the Preliator, and they knew that no matter how many times they killed, I always came back to kill them. No matter how much they frightened me, I remembered what Cadan had told me about the stories of me he had grown up hearing. Even demons feared something. The demonic reapers had nightmares of their own, stories they told one another to terrify, a legend that haunted them in their sleep. That was me. I was Hell's nightmare.”