Quotes from John Hart

War is personal, kid. You're surrounded by other soldiers, but you're fundamentally alone. Every combat soldier will tell you the same. You pull the trigger, and a man dies. You paint a tree with his brains or spill his guts out in the mud. The how of it don't signify, except in the nightmares, maybe, or what you see in the mirror first time you find the courage to look.

New York had taught me about hard stone, narrowness, and gray shadow.

After a moment, the void gathered itself into a low-ceilinged, dim space with sconces in the walls, a stairwell to the left, and closet doors broken from their hinges.

Nothing felt certain, so I made a choice. Hope, I decided. I would wake to a sense of hope. I

not everyone could walk into the dark and make the hard choice.

What had been concrete one day proved sand the next; strength was illusion; faith meant shit. So what? So his once-bright world had devolved to cold, wet fog. That was life, the new order. Johnny had nothing to trust but himself, so that's the way he rolled—his path, his choices, and no looking back.

God did not care about people in pain. Not the little ones. There was no such thing as justice, retribution, or community; neighbors did not help neighbors and the meek would not inherit the earth. All of that was bullshit. The church, the cops, his mother—none of them could make it right, none of them had the power. For a year, Johnny had lived the new, brutal truth that he was on his own.

Now, she lived with her dogs in a small house by a creek in the country, and her life had become a simple thing.

Her mother wanted to sell the Hush. The girl wanted its secrets. It was an old argument.

She had faith that each moment would be finer than the last. She believed that people were good

Our truest self is often the person we allow no one else to see—who we are when we are alone. In the real world, we edit. We compromise and prevaricate.

Like her, he cared more for the future than the past, more for hope than anger.

But people could walk the same road and see different things.

At twenty-three, Johnny didn't smile without reason or waste time on people he found insincere.

But death and blood was part of what it took to go from boy to man, no matter what my mother had to say about it.

When people asked about Hush Arbor, this was the place they meant: the cemetery, the old houses, the hanging tree. Few understood how large it really was.

But things can change, that's what I told myself. Mistakes can be undone, wrongs righted. That's what brought me home. Hope.

their diamonds struggled for luster in the empty light.

Because some things should never be forgotten." He smoothed the girl's unruly hair. "Not if we hope to live better lives." *

On the forever days in the forever dark, Eli's voice had held Adrian together.

The last word smelled of desperation,and the old lawyer sighed. 'I can tell you that the law is an ocean of darkness and truth, and that lawyers are but vessels on the surface. We may pull one rope or another, but it is the client, in the end, who charts the course.

This was not about being a cop. This was about friendship. It was about faith and trust and the sharp, hot burn that kindled at the thought of the Chief's betrayal.

She turned the water scalding hot and scrubbed her face until it hurt, but the eyes still looked wrong. She tore off her clothes and stepped into the shower; but it was not enough. The dirt was on the inside.

Lightening falls, all you can do is- pray God that it doesn't fall on you.