“I got the sneaking suspicion that the vampire was a couple of Peeps short of an Easter basket.”

“I’ll never forget that Depression Easter Sunday. Our son was four years old. I bought ten or fifteen cents’ worth of eggs. You didn’t get too many eggs for that. But we were down. Margaret said, ‘Why he’ll find those in five minutes.’ I had a couple in the piano and all around. Tommy got his little Easter basket, and as he would find the eggs, I’d steal ’em out of the basket and re-hide them. The kid had more fun that Easter than he ever had. He hunted Easter eggs for three hours and he never knew the difference. (Laughs.) “My son is now thirty-nine years old. And I bore him to death every Easter with the story. He never even noticed his bag full of Easter eggs never got any fuller. . . .”

“He hadn’t been peeping intentionally; he’d been trying to sneak into my room. So that was slightly less creepy, I supposed.”

“And if that bastard’s innocent,” Rhage spoke up, “I’m the fucking Easter bunny.” “Oh, good,” someone quipped. “I’m calling you Hop-along Hollywood from now on.” “Beasty Bo Peep,” somebody else threw out. “We could put you in a Cadbury ad and finally make some money—” “People,” Rhage barked, “the point is that he is not innocent and I’m not the Easter bunny—” “Where’s your basket?” “Can I play with your eggs?” “Hop it out, big guy—” “Will you guys fuck off ? Seriously!”

“I had a sneaking suspicion that time was not constant, but I guess I could never prove it. I suppose it didn’t really matter. I even had a theory that time didn’t go in straight line at all. I knew I was no Albert Einstein, but I had the sneaking suspicion that everything had happened, was happening, or would happen was really happening all the time. There was no past, present, and future. Everything was going on all at once and forever. If that was true, then each moment was eternity.”

“Deep inside, the majority of people had the sneaking suspicion that evil was more powerful than good and could be counteracted only by more evil.”