I fell for this one because of the title, and I liked it enough that I actually read it twice.
I want somewhere to store my quotes and thoughts so that I don't try to shoehorn them all into the review. So here is a very belated "book progress" page.
I'm woefully behind on reviews, but I'm planning on pushing one out for this and the 1812 Grim collection over the weekend.
Note: all quotes are taken from an uncorrected proof and are therefore preliminary. So they might end up being even better.
"One of the issues we had in common was that we each thought we were unique. Not just survivors but sole survivors. We wore our scars like badges."
"She believed that people were captains of their own destiny. He agreed, as long as it was understood that every captain was destined to go down with the ship, and there wasn't a damned thing you could do about it."
"She cut through the world like a knife, and the scars she left behind were deeper than any made by the dwellers."
"Stan said, 'You want him to come back.'
'Of course not!' Barbara said.
'Not really to come back,' the old man said. 'But just to end the waiting.'"
"Often it came down to trust [...] because most of all what we didn't trust was the world."
"'Everyone thinks I'm the quiet one,' she said. 'But you're the one who never talks.'
'I do so. I talk all the time.'
'No, you comment. What have you shared about yourself? We don't know you.'"
"'You're an optimist. Let's agree that the glass is half full of shit.'
'You saved an entire town!'
'If by "saving" you mean that slightly fewer people died than every single fucking person, sure. Totally saved it.'"
"Stan, you've told this story before," Barbara said. "When you go on and on like that, it's like you're demanding that I tune you out. The more you talk, the less I can hear you. [...] Tell me something real. How do you feel right now?"
"I feel sorry," Stan said. "I don't mean to bore you. I don't know why I do that. I just... fill the room."
Campbell [of the Hero's Journey] didn't understand the other stories in the world. The group knew the truth:
A monster crosses over into the everyday world. The mortals struggle and show great courage, but it's no use. The monster kills first the guilty, then the innocent, until finally only one remains. The Last Boy, the Last Girl. There is a final battle. The Last One suffers great wounds, but in the final moment vanquishes the monster. Only later does he or she recognize that this is the monster's final trick: the scars run deep, and the awareness of the truth only grows like an infection. The Last one knows that the monster isn't dead, only sent to the other side. There it waits until it can slip into the mundane world again."
"It's all for one--"
"Or all for nothing."
"Is it ever over? Do we ever get to just...win?"
Harrison chuckled. After a moment he said, "When I was a kid I used to play soccer. This was in San Diego, before we moved to Dunnsmouth. It was this park district league, and they didn't keep score. Losing would be bad for self-esteem. So at the end of the season, every player got a ribbon. A blue ribbon, stamped in gold, that said 'Participant.'"
Martin looked at the glasses in his hand. "Fuck."
"Congratulations," Harrison said.
"We're different from other people, she'd said. We only feel at home when we're a little bit afraid."