Giving Up Something That No Longer Serves

I Got Out My Jar Of Ointment. I Knew Animators Who Had Special Containers For The Ointment. Crockery, Hand-blown Glass, Mystical Symbols Carved Into The Sides. I Used An Old Mason Jar That Had Once Held Grandma Blake's Green Beans. Larry Fished Out A Peanut Butter Jar With The Label Still On It. Extra-crunchy. Yum-yum.

He Doesn’t Pretend,” The Punk Pixie Said. He Nodded Toward Doyle. “nice Rings. You Got Anything Else Pierced?” “yes,” Doyle Said. The Boy Smiled, Making The Rings In The Edge Of His Nose And His Bottom Lip Curl Cheerfully With It. “me Too,” He Said.

I Wasn't Afraid Of Him Anymore, Because I Could Smell His Fear. You Never Had To Be Afraid Of Anything That Was Afraid Of You.

We Were U.s. Marshals. We Hunted And Killed The Monsters. We Did Not Run From Them

You Can't Kill Us All, Human.' He Was Right. I Raised The Machine Gun A Little. 'true, But Who's Going To Be First In Line?