“Word is you heard the Windigo too."I did. The difference is I'm ready for the son of a bitch." --Cork O'Connor”

“This anger in your eyes, is it because you are hunting the Windigo?"."I don't know what it is I'm hunting, Henry."Meloux nodded thoughtfully, still looking keenly at Cork. "The Windigo was a man once. His heart was not always ice. What makes a man's heart turn to ice? I would think bout that, and I would think about how to fight the Windigo.”

“I have a good feeling about this. Somehow, it's all going to turn out for the best.""I wish I did," Cork said."Maybe that's the difference between the law and religion. I hope for the best, you're prepared for the worst.”

“To kill the Windigo, Meloux had said, you must become a Windigo, too.A man was never just a man. A man was endless possibility waiting to become.”

“If it was true, as Henry Meloux said, that he'd heard the Windigo call his name, he understood why now. Because it felt exactly as if his heart had just been torn out of him and devoured.”

“I won't try to argue you out of this pit you've climbed into, Cork.”

“They fell quiet. Cork wanted to say he loved her. He wanted to ask her to forgive him. He wanted to lay his head against her breast and weep into her warm flesh and feel as connected to someone as he'd felt the night the grief passed through him when he unted the big bear with Sam Winter Moon.[.............]"You've always made me laugh, Cork. That's not what I want now.""What do you want?""To feel needed. To feel that you need me as much as you need air to breathe. I'm worth that.”