Quotes from David Wong

That's what it's like being poor—choices are something you sit around and dream about having, some day after you strike it rich.

I said, "And then, when those all-American Joes get out and some of them fucking turn into monsters? What happens then?" Amy said, "Then we will once again err on the side of not letting people be murdered. You take the choice in front of you, and then you keep picking the non-murder choices as long as you can.

They call it kintsugi. The pot is shattered, then carefully reassembled with a resin mixed with gold. It symbolizes how we must incorporate our wounds into who we are, rather than try to merely repair and forget them.

It is believed that during the coronation of a new Pharaoh, he would be required to masturbate in front of the crowd, to demonstrate that he himself possessed the fertility powers of Min. If you have watched a State of the Union address, you will find that the ritual has not changed much.

You know what the scariest part is about people like him? Everything he's doing makes perfect sense in his own mind.

The gun without the training just means you've given your attacker a free gun.

Some would have doubted their sanity at this point, but by now the part of my mind that issued doubts about my sanity had melted from overuse.

A realization washed over her in that cold, dark space: this was how virtually all living things born on earth have died—with teeth tearing through their muscle and bones. We humans have computers and soap and houses but it doesn't change the fact that everything that walks is nothing but food for something else.

You know how sometimes when you're drifting off to sleep you feel that jolt, like you were falling and caught yourself at the last second? It's nothing to be concerned about, it's usually just the parasite adjusting its grip.

Sound filled the room, a crystal melody that could lift any human heart and turn away any devil. It was "Here I Go Again" by Whitesnake.

What do you think it's like, Father?" "What what's like?" "Being crazy. Mentally ill." "Well, they never know they're ill, do they? You can't diagnose yourself with the same organ that has the disease, just like you can't see your own eyeball. So, I suppose you just feel normal and the rest of the world seems to go crazy around you.

Miss," John interrupted. "We have reason to believe your dog was possessed by some kind of Hell demon. Has Molly ever spoken to you before?" Pause. "Who are you guys?" "Just answer the question. Please," John said. "Has there ever been any levitation?" "What? No." "Are you sure?" "Ma'am," I said, "if your dog was dabbling in the occult while you had her it's best you tell us now. We're experts.

She burst into snakes.

No. We talked about this. I'm going home to eat a pie.

We moved in silence for a moment and I said, "How did we screw this all up so badly, John?" He shook his head. "We always find a way.

I reached out and, with a small move of my body, did something that would change my life forever. I gently moved Amy aside and stepped down ahead of her, putting myself between her and the shadows.

Yes. That, right there, is the difference between the heroes and the nobodies. The difference between people like you and people like me. People like me know that there is no magic. There is only the grind. Work looks like magic to those unwilling to do it.

I want no part of this nonsense. This whole city is a butt that farts horror.

You save your love for the things that can love you back.

I had a familiar, nervous sensation, one that goes all the way back to elementary school. It's the simultaneous realization that I may have talked my way into another fistfight, and that I had not spent any time learning to fight since the last one.

John's old Caddie had a huge engine that would qualify as a human rights violation if built today. It roared down the road, chugging gas and farting a blue cloud of dinosaur souls.

Cops do this every day, rifling closets and digging through your dildo drawer.

Dave? This is John." "What are you-" Alive? "-in an ambulance or something?" "Yes and no. Are you still at the police station?" "Yeah. We were both-" "Have I died yet?

Well, you'd better hope I am because the world was built by sociopaths, men willing to send a million innocent boys into battle to be chopped to screaming giblets, all so a banner can be raised over another piece of land with houses and markets and roads soon after.