If This Book Exists, You're in the Wrong Universe

Sometimes when life’s Warning Light won’t stop flashing, the best thing you can do is just put some electrician’s tape over it.

I don’t want you shooting anybody today,” said Amy, “even if solving a complicated problem by shooting it is just about the most American thing I can imagine. We have to get the guy to stay willingly.

Have you ever found yourself obsessively watching a TV show you don’t actually enjoy? That probably means you’re just watching your parasite’s favorite show.

We were just about to head to the lake to do that thing where we celebrate America’s birthday by terrifying all of its dogs,

The most effective manipulation always comes with the illusion of choice; it feels less like a whip and more like quenching a thirst.

Humans act like assholes when they’re scared. Anybody who’s trying to keep you scared all the time just wants to breed more assholes into the world. Don’t let them do it.

Don’t romanticize people’s flaws. That’s what’s wrong with our culture.” “No. What’s ruining the culture is worshipping people who pretend they don’t have flaws. We’re all broken. And you couldn’t pull this off because you didn’t have John.

You’re probably not gonna save the world, but you can save individual people’s worlds, and that’s still pretty sweet.

Their true wealth is invisible to them because it comes in the form of what they’re missing: that constant hum of anxiety that sucks the energy from the rest of us. If their refrigerator craps out, they can fix it. If they fall down the stairs, their insurance will cover the hospital bill. If the breadwinner loses his job, he’ll have his pick of landing spots. When I daydream about having money, it’s not about jewelry and Jacuzzis and Jet Skis. I dream about having that unseen cushion, that margin of error I can just take for granted.

It was a skill one could acquire with practice, the way mechanics can tell what repairs your car needs just by looking at how expensive your shoes are.

But the reason it had to be us is that the three of us understand something that most people don't. The devil is real, but he doesn't turn up in a red suit with hooves. You have to imagine him as like a disease that you get-you pass it on and you don't even know it. Educated people don't call it the devil; they call it trauma. It rewires your brain and tries to spread itself down to the next generation and the one after that, the pain rolling down through time. The old man talking to you in your dreams, I think you know that he's just you, the man you can wind up being if you go down this path. All that about the end of the world? The best and worst news you're gonna hear all day is this: There's no such thing. It's another one of Dave's fake painted-on exits. You try to end it, and instead of release, it's just waves of trauma. The devil wins. You hate your dad and you should; he poured all his sickness into you. But if you want to fight him, the way you do it is by making sure you don't pass on the trauma. That's how you kill the devil. The only way.

At the level of poverty where we exist—not starving but hopelessly locked out of the middle class—it feels like flying over an active volcano on the back of a winged creature that is friendly but also very drunk.

Now turn off whatever machine you’re reading this on and go the fuck outside.

It tasted like a meal that was prepared sarcastically.

I’d previously assumed we’d done everything in our lives perfectly up to now.

I swear to God, science has not yet invented the kind of ass-beating these nerds deserve.

Being a teenager means feeling like you’re alone; getting older means realizing you never were.

Never forget, David, that devils have soft hands. The most effective manipulation always comes with the illusion of choice; it feels less like a whip and more like quenching a thirst.

When Joy looked at humans, she saw animals so detached from the food chain that their own boredom was eating them alive. None of their instincts made sense to them; they were primates adorning themselves with skins and shiny things, all swagger and posturing with no idea what it's for. They were grotesque and ridiculous, and she loved them so, so much. They were all doing their best, and their best was just an appalling disaster. That was why she loved the nursing home; the residents were humans stripped of all their pumped-up self-regard, scared and forced to put their whole trust in someone else for the first time since childhood. How could you hate humanity after seeing them in that state, helpless and afraid, watching their strength trickle away? Even the worst of them, when reduced to that, become something that just needs to be fed and bathed and comforted. They begin that way, and they end that way, and you can't really get too mad about the stuff they do in the middle.

The one who survives longest gets to attend all their friends’ funerals, then they go out, too, confused and crapping their pants. This right here is mercy.

A huge TV over a fireplace played what looked like a horror movie about a creepy pair of identical twins who go around renovating houses.

Once upstairs, Regina unlocked the bedroom door and stepped aside. Bas’s room was what I imagined my high school bullies went home to every night. A shelf with trophies. A row of autographed pictures of famous athletes on the wall. A framed news story about a high school football team, presumably his, winning a state championship. A TV positioned so that he could play video games from his bed. Dirty clothes scattered on the floor, mostly T-shirts and shorts. In one corner, there was an altar built out of human bones, topped with a glowing skull that was floating two inches from its stone base, slowing spinning in circles. I said, “Anything jump out at you?” “I’m going to go check around the altar.

It is okay to be fearful. When we do not allow ourselves to show fear, the emotion simply comes back in a much uglier disguise.

We all made choices and here we are, all still alive, all able to make more choices. That’s the best you’re going to get, the chance to keep trying. If it turns out it’s all an illusion or a dream or whatever, so what? Your choices are your choices, they’re the only thing that’s real because they’re the only part you can control.

based on what we know about the universe, every appeal to a higher power for intervention is, in fact, asking for said intervention to occur in a timeline that has already been firmly cemented in reality. We only know of a crisis when a certain domino is poised to fall: after symptoms of the tumor have manifested, after the aircraft’s engine has failed, after the employer’s business has gone under. Avoiding it requires infinite shattered teacups to be reversed, reassembled, and their contents unspilled.

John said, "The good news is, you tame that monster and you can put it to work for you. Achieve great things." Bas scoffed. "What, like become a self-help guru?" "Yeah. If you want. All we know is that there are certain people who stand out, for whatever reason. The crowd adopts their vibe; people naturally want to imitate it. It's like a superpower. You're probably not gonna save the world, but you can save individual people's worlds, and that's still pretty sweet.

Never Forget That You Are Meat The one thing we know for sure about our possibly simulated world is that we are experiencing it via meat. All your thoughts are running through meat, and therefore, a lot of what you’re perceiving about the universe is just meat stuff. Feel like the world is doomed? There’s a good chance that’s only because your meat isn’t getting enough sleep. Mad at everyone? It might just be that your meat is hungry. In a state of panic? Take deep breaths—you might just not have enough oxygen in your blood. If the world feels off to you, always check your meat first.

Note that this is the fourth novel starring these characters (this can be a source of confusion, as reissues and new editions can complicate things if you search purely by publication date). They can all be read independently, and if this is your first, I assure you that having read them all in sequence would do nothing to alleviate whatever confusion you’re feeling now. In order, they are: John Dies at the End This Book Is Full of Spiders: Seriously, Dude, Don’t Touch It What the Hell Did I Just Read: A Novel of Cosmic Horror The first was turned into a feature film with the same title and is surely available on at least one video streaming service you have access to. If you are a loyal fan and have been following this series from the start, first of all, thank you, and second of all, please note that all plot and continuity errors, as well as timeline inconsistencies, are intentional. Or at least, my choice to not worry about them is intentional.

When I was a kid, I’d have thought being on my own like this was freedom. But this is ‘freedom’ in the sense that a severed limb is ‘free’ to slide down the throat of a shark.