His other hand finds my cheek, and he wipes away my tears with his thumb. The chocolate scent overwhelms me as he bends over and whispers in my ear, “No, Cassie. No, no, no.” I throw my arm around his neck and press his dry cheek against my wet one. I’m shaking like an epileptic, and for the first time I can feel the weight of the quilts on the top of my toes because the blinding dark sharpens your other senses. I’m a bubbling stew of random thoughts and feelings. Furthermore, I’m worried my hair might smell. Furthermore, I want some chocolate. This guy holding me—well, it’s more like I was holding him—has seen me in all my naked glory. What did he think about my body? What did I think about my body? Does God really care about promises? Do I really care about God? Are miracles something like the Red Sea parting or more like Evan Walker finding me locked in a block of ice in a wilderness of white?“Cassie, it’s going to be okay,” he whispers into my ear, chocolate breath.

— Rick Yancey

How baffling it is that we imagined cities incinerated by alien bombs and death rays when all they really needed was Mother Nature and time.

— Rick Yancey

How would you rather die?" she snapped. "Hiding under your bed or riding Thunder Mountain?

— Rick Yancey

I always assumed it owed more to the fact that he didn't like me.

— Rick Yancey

I am a shark. A shark who dreamed he was a man.

— Rick Yancey

I am like the water that runs over me, immune to permanence, recycling endlessly. I am water; I am life. The form may change, but the substance stays the same. Strike me down and I will rise again. Vinci quit patter.

— Rick Yancey

I brought Sammy inside and put him to bed. Said his prayer with him. “‘Now I lay me down to sleep…’” To me, just random noise. Gibberish. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but I felt that, when it came to God, there was a broken promise in there somewhere.

— Rick Yancey

I confessed I did not have an opinion; I was only thirteen, and this was my very first dismemberment.

— Rick Yancey

I do not mean to mock or ridicule your life's work, for in one way at least it mimics my own: We have dedicated our lives to the pursuit of phantoms. The difference is the nature of those phantoms. Mine exist between other men's ears; yours live solely between your own.

— Rick Yancey

If the enemy looks just like you, how do you fight him?

— Rick Yancey