Youth is a form of mental illness.
When luck ain’t with you, it’s against you.
The forest was white in the snowfall, but still seemed to hold more secrets than she had ever thought possible.
So Malcolm stepped out of the trees and met Nelson, and the fate of billions was changed.
Faith is belief without proof.
Prophecy is slippery, dangerous, open to fatal misinterpretation.
You’d have thought so, but it was just a phase, wasn’t it? Nothing that churchgoing and pretending it never happened wouldn’t make go away.
Faith is belief without proof,” Malcom said. “It’s a leap, an act of bravery. If I had proof, I would have no reason to Believe. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve reaped benefit of that faith.
He was the thing the world had suffered from most in her four billion years of existence: a stupid man with power. When the lights of the universe went out one day, standing over the plug, having pulled it despite all warnings, would be a man like Deputy Kelby.
All the while knowing that the world makes no sense but trying to find a way to be happy anyway.
It had been amazing. Just utterly, utterly amazing, like that whole summer before senior year had been, when everything had seemed possible, when everything good felt like it was just within reach for once, when if he could just hang in there, it really would finally all come together.
You must release me or you will never be released.
He’s uncertain what’s going to happen next. But he is certain that that’s actually the point. If this is all a story, then that’s what the story means. If it isn’t a story, then the exact same is true.
It was almost over. He was almost there. He had never, not once in his life, felt this powerful.
I kept thinking, in another life, if I made different choices, it could be you and me instead.
It has nothing to do with not trusting you. It’s to do with what something becomes once you tell it. It’s like it’s truer. And it’s got a life of its own and it rushes out into the world and becomes something you can’t control.
Manchee and me are quiet as possible going past the front door of the Church. Praying Noise comes from inside, it’s got a special feel to it, a special purply sick feel like men are bleeding it out, even tho it’s always the same stuff but the purply blood just keeps on coming. Help us, save us, forgive us, help us, save us, forgive us, get us outta here, please, God, please, God, please, God, tho as far as I know no one’s never heard no Noise back from this God fella.
But there are harder things than being invisible, it said.
Anxiety is a feeling grown too large. A feeling grown aggressive and dangerous. You’re responsible for its consequences, you’re responsible for treating it. But Michael, you’re not responsible for causing it.
Death is suddenly objectionable to you when the dead has a name you know?