Dead Beat (The Dresden Files, #7)

by Jim Butcher

The energy of night was far different than that of the daylight—not inherently evil, but wilder, more dangerous, more unpredictable. Night was a time of endings, and this night, Samhain, All Hallow’s Eve, was particularly so.

“Don’t you want to survive?” my double asked. I rose from the chair and started walking into the darkness outside the light. “Of course I do. But some things are more important than survival.”

“Son. Everyone dies alone. That’s what it is. It’s a door. It’s one person wide. When you go through it, you do it alone.” His fingers squeezed me tight. “But it doesn’t mean you’ve got to be alone before you go through the door. And believe me, you aren’t alone on the other side.”

“Harry, life isn’t simple. There is such a thing as black and white. Right and wrong. But when you’re in the thick of things, sometimes it’s hard for us to tell.