Quotes from Justin Cronin

Too many what-ifs are just a way to keep yourself up at night, and there's not enough decent sleep to go around.

I will give you childhood, so that you might know innocence. Age, so you will know the prize of youth. Children, so that you will care for the future. Toil, so that you will know the value of a day. The body's failings, so that you will know its worth. Death, so that you will cherish the bittersweet beauty of life.

I would not say I was a nonbeliever; rather, that I gave little if any thought to celestial concerns. It did not seem to me that God, whoever he was, would be the sort of god to take an interest in the minutiae of human affairs, or that this fact released us from the duty to go about our lives in a spirit of decency to others.

She took the disc in her hand, holding it by the edges. Stravinsky, The Rite of Spring. The Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Erich Leinsdorf conducting. 'I just thought you should hear what you look like,' said Elton.

It was as if I'd lost some cosmic game of musical chairs; the song had stopped, I was left standing, and there was simply nothing to be dine about it.

but the other guard, who couldn't have been more than twenty, was wearing a snarl on his face that Wolgast didn't like. There was always one guard who liked the job for the wrong reasons, and this was the one.

Because the game was the world's natural state. Because the game was war, it always was, and when wasn't there a war on, somewhere, to keep a man like Richards in good employ?

It's love that enslaves us...It is the play within the play, the stage on which the tragic drama of our human lives unfold.

This isn't a question of odds. Of all the men in the world, that woman hose you. If she's still out there, she's waiting for you. Staying alive any way she can until you find her.

Would somebody please tell him whose idea it had been to kill the entire state of Colorado?

A hundred and twelve miles to the north, traveling east on Interstate 76, Kittridge had also begun to worry about fuel.

Drinking myself blind seemed like the next logical step.

Consider the species known as man. We lie, we cheat, we want what others have and take it; we make war upon each other and the earth; we harvest lives in multitude. We have mortgaged the planet and spent the cash on trifles.

When he decided they weren't police, he realized he'd been thinking maybe they were.

Results for "It's funny. You can live your whole life and then suddenly know that you didn't do it right at all

The story was never the the story, and it surprised you, how much another person could carry.

It's children, he thought, that give us our lives; without them we are nothing, we are here and then gone, like the dust.

What were the living dead, Wolgast thought, but a metaphor for the misbegotten march of middle age? It

This is where we leave you. The sentries at the gate will tell you what to do.

When they come, they come from above.

Eustace remembered a day like this one: spring on the cusp of summer, the earth unclenching its fist, thick green leaves, rich with fragrance, fattening the trees. A

SIXTY-NINE She was Amy, and she was forever. She was one of Twelve and also the other, the one above and behind, the Zero. She was the Girl from Nowhere, the One Who Walked In, who lived a thousand years; Amy of Multitudes, the Girl with the Souls Inside Her. She was Amy. She was Amy. She was Amy. She

A baby wasn't an idea, as love was an idea. A baby was a fact. It was a being with a mind and a nature, and you could feel about it any way you liked, but a baby wouldn't care. Just by existing, it demanded that you believe in a future: the future it would crawl in, walk in, live in. A baby was a piece of time; it was a promise you made that the world made back to you. A baby was the oldest deal there was, to go on living.

History is more than data, more than facts, more than science and scholarship. These things are merely the means to a greater end. History is a story—the story of ourselves. Where do we come from? How have we survived? How can we avoid the mistakes of the past? Do we matter, and if we do, what is our proper place upon the earth? I