In The End We Always Wear Out

The Town Has A Sense, Not Of History, But Of Time, And The Telephone Poles Seem To Know This. If You Lay Your Hand Against One, You Can Feel The Vibration From The Wires Deep Within The Wood, As If Souls Had Been Imprisoned In There And Were Struggling To Get Out.

When You Own A Piano, It's Harder To Think About Moving.

A Dimwit Thinks Nothing Is Funny Unless It's Mean.

...they Came To See What Happened To Their Town, To See If It Was Indeed Lying Burnt And Bleeding. Many Of Them Also Came To Die.

...belief Has A Second Edge. If There Are Ten Thousand Medieval Peasants Who Create Vampires By Believing Them Real, There May Be One - Probably A Child - Who Will Imagine The Stake Necessary To Kill It. But A Stake Is Only Stupid Wood; The Mind Is The Mallet Which Drives It Home.