Quotes from John Connolly

Each of us has only one life to live, and one life to give. There is no glory in throwing it away where there is no hope.

It was an overcast late November morning, the grass splintered by hoarfrost, and winter grinning through the gaps in the clouds like a bad clown peering through the curtains before the show begins.

I slipped from present to past, sliding down the snake heads of memory into what was and what would never be again.

If you listen hard enough, there's almost no such thing as silence: there's just noise that isn't very loud yet.

No, all that David could think about was the head of the deer-girl, for her face rubbed against his as they rode, her warm blood smeared his cheek, and he saw himself reflected in the dark green mirrors of her eyes.

Sometimes we need our pain. We need it to call our own.

When I started in homicide, the Dead Sea was just sick.

Families," said Angel, with some feeling. "Can't live with them, can't have them killed without complications.

Samuel didn't move. 'What will you do if I climb off the bed?' 'Well I can eat you, or I can drag you down to the depths of Hell, never to seen or heard from again. Depends, really.' 'On what?' 'Lost of things: hygiene, for a start. After tasting that sock, I don't fancy eating any part of you, to be honest, so it'll have to be the depths of Hell for you, I'm afraid.

Sometimes he would forget her, but in forgetting he would remember her again, and the ache for her would return with a vengeance.

Astronomers who were recently sifting through thousands of signals from Sagittarius B2, a big dust cloud at the center of our galaxy, found a substance there called ethyl formate, which is the chemical responsible for the flavor of raspberries, and the smell of rum, the drink popular with pirates. Therefore, our galaxy tastes a bit of raspberries and smells of rum, which is nice.

David tried to give a form to the beast at the heart of the poem but found that he could not. It was more difficult than it appeared, for nothing quite seemed to fit. Instead, he could only conjure up a half-formed being that crouched in the cobwebbed corners of his imagination where all the things that he feared curled and slithered upon one another in the darkness.

He was just a boy wearing pajamas, one slipper, and an old blue dressing gown under a stranger's jacket, and he did not belong anywhere but in his own bedroom.

But don't they say that all is fair in love and war? I heard that somewhere." "'They?' Who are 'they?'" "I don't know. Just people." "That's what the victorious claim, not the defeated; the powerful, not the powerless. 'All is fair.' 'The end justifies the means.' Is that what you believe?

although both were lost in their own individual worlds, they shared the same space and time.

One lies in truth, One truth is lies. One path is death, One path is life. One question asked, The path to guide.

My grandfather used to say that if God did not allow a man to be reunited with his dogs in the next life He was no God worth worshipping; that if a dog did not have a soul, then nothing had.

You want to know what's on the other side?' Walsh eyed the detective carefully, as if gauging the seriousness of the question. 'Is it seventy-two virgins, like the Muslims believe?' 'That's the good news. The bad news is that they're all guys. It's like being at a boarding school.' 'I knew there had to be a catch.

The door, when I tried it, was locked, but a locked door is more the promise of security than security itself.

The evolutionary curve obviously sloped pretty gently where Six came from.

He became merely the broken statue of a beast, now without another's fear to animate it.

If 'why' was the first and last question, then 'because I was curious to see what would happen' was the first and last answer. A version of it had been spoken to God Himself in the Garden of Eden, and it was destined to be the reason for the end of things at the hands of man.

THERE ARE NO COINCIDENCES, only patterns we do not see.

It's a full-time job being homeless. It's a full-time job being poor.