Quotes from Stephen Graham Jones

I hated Darren, and I would have chewed my hand off just to see him one more time.

Now you're the adult who doesn't believe this is really happening. And, what always happens to that adult? Do you still remember, or do you forget all the true things when you grow up, Peter Pan?

Does he not know the rules, though? Slashers aren't into guns. One of the papers she wrote for Mr. Holmes, even, back in the days of extra credit, was how the reason bullets never can take the slasher down is that they're not in the gun economy at all, are far outside it, like there's some unspoken deal in place: I won't use you, you can't hurt me.

This went on for four hours. By Millie's count, four hours was enough time to kill twenty-seven prairie dogs. They might have a language of sorts, but they didn't use it to tell each other not to have a look-see at what all the commotion was topside.

He's not following any of the rules, is he?

certain Abelard and Heloise allegations between a history teacher and his formerly favorite student

steering wheels aren't designed for monsters that aren't supposed to exist.

Horror's not a symptom, it's a love affair.

Some people just aren't fit for human company."... "And some people just don't want it.

He backed out, turned around and reversed into the slot, scratching the tires with each gear change, then didn't let himself drink any beer except one, and then another to hide the first, to stop his hands from shaking, and finally just three, to get it over with.

And none of Grandpa's stories were ever lies. I know that now. They were just true in a different way. He had

Lindsay's hauling up the Titan sword, holding it up like she has the power.

What "Terra Nova" means, all the articles are proud to reveal, is "New World." What one of the incoming residents said, kind of famously, was that when there are no more frontiers, you have to make them yourself, don't you?

He delivers the mail, she brings the planes in, and they meet at the end of the day over tofu and beans, compare notes, and, like last night, work out their kinks on the court.

Second time's charm," Burned Dan said. "Think that's third time," I told him. "You want to do this again?" he said. "Second time's charm," I repeated.

What he didn't say was that you don't get cold-resistant because your jackets suck, you just stop complaining about it after a while, because complaining doesn't make you any warmer.

Words are worms, can live in your head for years if you let them in.

evidently what he was subsisting on was rage and recrimination. When interviewed on whether that was a sustainable traditional diet, a Shoshone elder looked into the camera and shrugged, said it had kept him going for eighty-eight years so far, hadn't it?

This is how stories end, with all these leftover characters, nothing left for them to do.

Names are stupid, though. Pretty soon he won't even need his.

I was glad I'd never had any kids on the reservation, because this is what happens. They drive off every road they can, and then, because it hasn't started hurting yet, whichever one can still walk does, to the nearest light, his face packed with windshield glass.

This is the way werewolf stories go. Never any proof. Just a story that keeps changing, like it's twisting back on itself, biting its own stomach to chew the poison out.

A second later, a third knife sticks into the doorframe, the two sides of its handle calving off as well, tapping into the hardwood floor one by one, like they tried to hold on, they really did, but… they're just from the dollar store, come on, this is all they could manage.

Then Gabe reached over for his rifle, his fingers coming into place on the pistol grip one by delicate one, like all four at once might be too loud.