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You can only call someone crazy if there’s someone else who’s normal. Like good and evil. If everything was good, then nothing would be good. Whoa. That sounds, well…crazy. Crazy: the new normal.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” because that’s what I wanted him to say and it’s what he wanted to say and that’s what you do when the curtain is falling—you give the line that the audience wants to hear.
“She’s dead.” He waves his hand in the air. I’m being stupid. “We’re all dead, son. Some of us are just a little further along than others.
“God doesn’t call the equipped, son. God equips the called. And you have been called.”
The harder survival becomes, the more you want to pull together. And the more you want to pull together, the harder survival becomes.
“I had it all wrong,” he says. “Before I found you, I thought the only way to hold on was to find something to live for. It isn’t. To hold on, you have to find something you’re willing to die for.”
If you don’t kill all of us all at once, those who remain will not be the weak.
The minute we decide that one person doesn’t matter anymore, they’ve won.”
