Quotes from Dean Koontz

Of all the gifts that Barty opened on Christmas morning, the hardback copy of Robert Heinlein's The Star Beast was his favorite. Instantly enchanted by the promise of an amusing alien creature, space travel, an exotic future, and lots of adventure, he seized every opportunity throughout the busy day to crack open those pages and to step out of Bright Beach into stranger places.

The quarry will be armed with a nine-millimeter Glock featuring a ten-round magazine.

Having gotten ahead of the phalanx, Katie drops the Tac Light

It needs to be free. It was born free. It isn't property.

Once the golden phase had passed, the sun used only the red and orange spectrum of its palette to paint the sky in advance of the long night of darkness, and by reflection the harbor waters caught fire.

Protracted self-promotion drains something essential from the soul

If emotions were universal, then in one sense he was not alone, never had been alone, and never could be alone....No pain or happiness was unique. All humanity drank from the same river of emotion; and by drinking, every race, religion, and nationality became one indivisible species.

matter how strenuously sociologists and politicians and others of their persuasion insist on defining our species into interest groups and factions and classes and tribes, the better to control us, in truth our greatest strength is in the uniqueness of each of us.

With the thirst of an insatiable swillpot, he had poured down the fiction of two generations of deep thinkers, and he was pickled in their

can't see anything inside, just vague shapes, which probably means the glass is heavily tinted and polarized, so it looks clear from inside but not from out here

He put the screwdriver on a nearby counter.

and takes the Glock in both hands.

Do you know Aesop? The fable titled 'The Great and the Little Fishes'?

Human beings could hate to the point of killing whom they hated, based on class and race and politics and religion and mere envy.

telepathy," had been part of that fund of knowledge called "instinct.

Joanna Rand

seemed that books might fade entirely from fashion and that vast fields of information, digitized but rarely accessed, would soon become graveyards of once essential knowledge.

The past is but the beginning of a beginning, and all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn. —H. G. Wells

Life is full of mysteries, isn't it? And maybe we don't always need to know the answers to them. Each thing we don't understand is a wall, and we spend our lives throwing ourselves against those walls, with little to show for it in the end. Maybe sometimes it's just best to accept the limitations of our understanding, accept that some things will be forever beyond our

Isn't he sweet? But he's not a fox. He's an Australian cattle dog mix.

On the dark water of the harbor, reflections of shoreside lights cockled like colorful skeins of rippled-ribbon sugar candy.

He's one of those dangerous people that we call sociopaths. He fakes being human, because he lacks all the emotions you and I feel. He cares only about himself, and if he felt he could get away with it, he would commit any atrocity you can imagine, without remorse.

During the one minute of wakefulness after his head meets the pillow, he wonders not who he once was, not why that life is behind him and beyond recapture, not what organization finances him and crafts his missions. He wonders only how he was made into what he has become. Strange science must be involved, which intrigues him. Sleep.

Those in the Mysterium