The Twelve (The Passage, #2)

by Justin Cronin

The story was never the story, and it surprised you, how much another person could carry.

Physical barricades were nothing compared to the wires of the mind. What had truly imprisoned them was one another. Husbands and wives, parents and children, friends and companions: what they believed had given them strength in their lives had actually done the opposite.

This was God, of course, or could be called God. But even that term seemed too small, a word made by men for that which had no name.

It would be like opening a door. That was how she had imagined it. An act not of will but of surrender, to give away this life, this world.