Lightning

by Dean Koontz

One of the greatest sorrows of human existence is that some people aren’t happy merely to be alive but find their happiness only in the misery of others.

She now knew that life was frighteningly subject to tragedy and change, blue and warm one moment, cold and stormy the next, so you never knew when a bolt of lightning might strike someone you cared about. Nothing lasts forever. Life is a candle in the wind.

If the world was hard and cruel and unpredictable, then it did not seem wise to show the slightest weakness.

Dear Laura, Some things are meant to be, and no one can prevent them. Not even your special guardian. Be content with the knowledge that your father loved you with all his heart in a way that few people are ever lucky enough to be loved. Though you think now that you will never be happy again, you are wrong. In time happiness will come to you. This is not an empty promise. This is a fact.

Understanding wasn’t always necessary, as long as you believed.

Within a few weeks Laura realized that there were two types of survivors in life: those, like her, who found the requisite strength in having once been loved with great intensity; and those who, having not been loved, learned to thrive on hatred, suspicion, and the meager rewards of revenge. They were at once scornful of the need for human feeling and envious of the capacity for it.

“You know why we like this place so much? ‘Cause it’s of the world yet untainted by the world.

Adversity breeds toughness, and the tough succeed. And survive.”

The prospect of an encounter with a time traveler instantly filled him with a sense of adventure and joy. That was the splendid thing about life: Though it was cruel, it was also mysterious, filled with wonder and surprise; sometimes the surprises were so amazing that they qualified as miraculous, and by witnessing those miracles, a despondent person could discover a reason to live, a cynic could obtain unexpected relief from ennui, and a profoundly wounded boy could find the will to heal himself and medicine for melancholy.

“We were on the lam, Aunt Thelma,” Chris said. “It’s hard to stay in touch with people when you’re on the lam.”

“He’s worse than a nut, honey. He’s a fanatic.” “What’s a fanatic exactly?” She thought for a moment, then said, “A fanatic is a nut who has something to believe

Destiny struggles to reassert the pattern that was meant to be.

In tragedy and despair, when an endless night seems to have fallen, hope can be found in the realization that the companion of night is not another night, that the companion of night is day, that darkness always gives way to light, and that death rules only half of creation, life the other half.

Readers are not sheep. They are wolves, filled with curiosity, adventurous, always hungry for a tasty treat with at least a little substance to it. The readers I know and love, the kind of readers to whom I owe my career, are more likely to say “woof” than “baa,” and not just because I sometimes write stories with dogs in them. Thank God you’re out there. If my writing career had failed, I would have made a lousy plumber; if I’d taken up carpentry, I’d now have six instead of ten fingers, and everyone would call me “Stubs.”

I LOVE that Dean Koontz did NOT give up when his publishers didn't like this book because it was so different from his others! He is correct: Readers are not sheep! And, "Lightning" turned out to be my ALL-TIME favorite of his!