“When it came to the dark fuckery of the human heart, there seemed to be no limit.”

“That wasn't any act of God. That was an act of pure human fuckery.”

“The sunlight pouring in the east window came through her lids and made a dark red beet soup that moved with the rhythm of her heart...”

“And now, all these years later, it seemed to him that the most horrible fact of human existence was that broken hearts mended.”

“It's probably wrong to believe there can be any limit to the horror which the human mind can experience. On the contrary, it seems that some exponential effect begins to obtain as deeper and deeper darkness falls-as little as one may like to admit it, human experience tends, in a good many ways, to support the idea that when the nightmare grows black enough, horror spawns horror, one coincidental evil begets other, often more deliberate evils, until finally blackness seems to cover everything. And the most terrifying question of all may be just how much horror the human mind can stand and still maintain a wakeful, staring, unrelenting sanity. That such events have their own Rube Goldberg absurdity goes almost without saying. At some point, it all starts to become rather funny. That may be the point at which sanity begins either to save itself or to buckle and break down; that point at which one's sense of humor begins to reassert itself.”

“But still, sometimes, in the heart of winter when the light outside seemed yellow- sleepy, like a cat curled up on a sofa...”

“It was the possibility of darkness that made the day seem so bright.”