Instead of going home, I drove to the library. To hell with human beings. I’d always felt safer with stories than with flesh and blood.

“The weak are cruel. The strong have no need to be.”

“That was the sorrow of it. He saw the light but never expected the darkness.”

“Any weapon touched by a woman, even by accident, must be cleansed with both wat…”

“Sometimes words drew blood, they cut your tongue, they made you know things you…”