Let the Right One In

by John Ajvide Lindqvist

Real love is to offer your life at the feet of another, and that’s what people today are incapable of.

This was school. They told you to do a lot of things and you did them. The whole thing had been invented so the teachers would be able to hand out photocopies.

“Dead is dead.” “Yes.” Tommy pulled a thread out of the armchair, rolled it up into a ball between his fingers, and then flicked it away. “Yes. At least that’s what we like to think.”

“You have one friend . . . who never lets you down. And that is worth everything. Do you hear that? Everything.

The person his dad became when he drank had no connection to the person he was when he was sober. And so it was comforting to think about Dad being a werewolf.

What he was scared of was not that maybe she was a creature who survived by drinking other people’s blood. No—it was that she might push him away.

“I . . . don’t kill people.” “No, but you would like to. If you could. And you would really do it if you had to.” “Because I hate someone. That’s a very big . . .” “Difference. Is it?” “Yes? . . .” “If you got away with it. If it just happened. If you could wish someone dead and they died. Wouldn’t you do it then?” “. . . sure.” “Sure you would. And that would be simply for your own enjoyment. Your revenge. I do it because I have to. There is no other way.” “But it’s only because . . . they hurt me, because they tease me, because I . . .” “Because you want to live. Just like me.”

Let the right one in Let the old dreams die Let the wrong ones go They cannot do What you want them to do —Morrissey, “Let the Right One Slip In”

For a few seconds Oskar saw through Eli’s eyes. And what he saw was . . . himself. Only much better, more handsome, stronger than what he thought of himself. Seen with love.