All Of Us Have A Path To

Quiet Is Here And All In Me. ("dress Of White Silk")

Robert Neville Looked Out Over The New People Of The Earth. He Knew He Did Not Belong To Them; He Knew That, Like The Vampires, He Was Anathema And Black Terror To Be Destroyed. And, Abruptly, The Concept Came, Amusing To Him Even In His Pain. ... Full Circle. A New Terror Born In Death, A New Superstition Entering The Unassailable Fortress Of Forever. I Am Legend.

Chris Nielsen: Thank You For Every Kindness. Thank You For Our Children. For The First Time I Saw Them. Thank You For Being Someone I Was Always Proud To Be With. For Your Guts, For Your Sweetness. For How You Always Looked, For How I Always Wanted To Touch You. God, You Were My Life. I Apologize For Everytime I Ever Failed You. Especially This One.

He Pretended It Was The Only Thing That Kept Him From It. But, Far Back In His Mind, He Wondered If He Could Write Anything. Often The Question Threw Itself At Him When He Was Least Expecting It. You Have Four Hours Every Morning, The Statement Would Rise Like A Menacing Wraith. You Have Time To Write Many Thousands Of Words. Why Don't You? And The Answer Was Always Lost In A Tangle Of Becauses And Wells And Endless Reasons That He Clung To Like A Drowning Man At Straws.

But It Was Hard To Keep His Hands Still. He Could Almost Feel Them Twitching Emphatically With His Strong Desire To Reach Out And Stroke The Dog's Head. He Had Such A Terrible Yearning To Love Something Again, And The Dog Was Such A Beautiful Ugly Dog.