I don’t know what happened to me, he said, shaking his head. I honestly don’t. … You grew up, Alex.
It was the hat. He looked sweet in the hat. How could a man in a fuzzy blue hat have used human bones to pave his roads?
Soiled, forgotten coats of arms were carved above their massive doorways, and these unsettled Ted: such universal, defining symbols made meaningless by nothing more than time.
Time’s a goon, right? You gonna let that goon push you around?” Scotty shook his head. “The goon won.
That’s what death is, Danny thought: wanting to talk to someone and not being able to.