“I'd heard of Vlad Dracul, but only the name. The kids at Cotton Maher never said much except things like "The football team's up against Vlad this Saturday. Pray for them." When I'd heard that, I'd asked the kid who'd said it what the big deal was. "Shut up," he'd explained.”

“When did I say I'd never leave?" "In your sleep, it was the most comforting thing I'd heard in so long.”

“I was sitting cross-legged in bed, trying without success to pretend I'd misunderstood the image I'd glimpsed. Yeah, right. Because Vlad had been between my legs looking for a set of keys he'd lost.”

“Why must people kneel down to pray? If I really wanted to pray I’ll tell you what I'd do. I'd go out into a great big field all alone or in the deep, deep woods and I'd look up into the sky—up—up—up—into that lovely blue sky that looks as if there was no end to its blueness. And then I'd just feel a prayer.”

“A scream hurled up my throat, but I never heard it. I'd slipped into a welcoming darkness.”

“I never got along with my dad. Kids used to come up to me and say, "My dad can beat up your dad." I'd say Yeah? When?”