Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.

When life is a horror....Don't look like a ghost!

Bill suited the action to the word, getting up and leaning over the handlebars and pumping the pedals at a lunatic rate. Looking at Bill's back, which was amazingly broad for a boy of eleven-going-on-twelve, watching it work under the duffel coat, the shoulders slanting first one way and then the other as he shifted his weight from one pedal to the other, Richie suddenly became sure that they were invulnerable...they would live forever and ever.

This isn__ how things were supposed to happen. I was supposed to be me. Not this.

Blame is the creed of the disempowered.

Behind every great hatred is a love story. For I am a man who has known and tasted love. I say __ man_ because that is how I know myself. Look at me, and what do you see? Do I not take the form of a man? Do I not feel as you do, suffer as you do, love as you do, mourn as you do? What is the essence of a man, if not these things?