The Institute

He wanted to tell Luke that he loved him. But there were no words, and maybe no need of them. Or telepathy. Sometimes a hug was telepathy.

It came to him, with the force of a revelation, that you had to have been imprisoned to fully understand what freedom was.

this life we think we’re living isn’t real. It’s just a shadow play, and I for one will be glad when the lights go out on it. In the dark, all the shadows disappear.

Between midnight and four, everyone should have permission to speak freely.

It was so simple, but it was a revelation: what you did for yourself was what gave you the power.

There was an abyss. And books contained magical incantations to raise what was hidden there, all the great mysteries.

He was only twelve, and understood that his experience of the world was limited, but one thing he was quite sure of: when someone said trust me, they were usually lying through their teeth.

Back in the main corridor—what Luke now understood to be the residents’ wing—the little girls, Gerda and Greta, were standing and watching with wide, frightened eyes. They were holding hands and clutching dolls as identical as they were. They reminded Luke of twins in some old horror movie.

.. .what is the mother of carelessness if not assumption?

If I may borrow from George R. R. Martin, she is my sun and stars.

Sane people don't sacrifice children on the altar of probability. That's not science, it's superstition.

Try not to think of a polar bear, Fyodor Dostoyevsky once said, and you will see the cursed thing come to mind every minute.

losers so dumb that they mistook wrapping themselves in the chains of addiction as an act of rebellion.

They reminded Luke of twins in some old horror movie.

Trump and his cronies took it all back. They understand culture no more than a donkey understands algebra.

There were other people here with at least some shreds of decency left, but working in a place like this destroyed your moral compass.

Around and around it went, and what was round had no point, any fool knew that.

Love don't die with the earthly body, son. It's a purely ridiculous notion.

There’s a town in Maine, Jerusalem’s Lot, and you could ask the people who lived there about the men in the black cars.

It came to him (and with the force of a revelation) that life was basically one long SAT test, and instead of four or five choices, you got dozens.

He had no psychic powers, but there was one power he did have: he was the grownup. The adult.

Orphan Annie stood her ground. She had been raised that way in the Georgia canebrakes by a father who told her, “You don’t back down, girl, not for nothin.” Jean Ledoux had been a crack shot whether drunk or sober, and he had taught her well. Now she opened fire with both of Drummer’s handguns, compensating for the .45 auto’s heavier recoil without even thinking about it.

Seventy years after Hiroshima and Nagasaki were obliterated by atomic bombs, the world is still here even though many nations have atomic weapons, even though primitive human emotions still hold sway over rational thought and superstition masquerading as religion still guides the course of human politics.

You know, Jamieson, this life we think we’re living isn’t real. It’s just a shadow play, and I for one will be glad when the lights go out on it. In the dark, all the shadows disappear.

Almost an hour after Julia’s last contact—much too long—Stackhouse’s box phone lit up and began to buzz. He grabbed it. “Have you got him, Julia?” The voice that replied was so astounding that Stackhouse almost dropped the phone. “No,” Luke Ellis said, “you’ve got it backward.” Stackhouse could hear undeniable satisfaction in the little shit’s voice. “We’ve got her.

It wasn't very nice, but the truth seldom was.

As his father liked to say, it was good to have goals. They could bring you through tough times.

Luke Ellis was the guy who went out of his way to be social so people wouldn’t think he was a weirdo as well as a brainiac. He checked all the correct interaction boxes and then went back to his books. Because there was an abyss, and books contained magical incantations to raise what was hidden there: all the great mysteries. For Luke, those mysteries mattered. Someday, in the future, he might write books of his own.