It always comes down to just two choices. Get busy living or get busy dying. - Stephen King

Wendy? Darling? Light, of my life. I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just going to bash your brains in.

For no reason at all, I thought of New Year's Eve, when all those people crowd into Times Square and scream like jackals as the lighted ball slides down the pole, ready to shed its thin party glare on three hundred and sixty-five new days in this best of all possible worlds. I have always wondered what it would be like to be caught in one of those crowds, screaming and not able to hear your own voice, your individuality momentarily wiped out and replaced with the blind empathic overslop of the crowd's lurching, angry anticipation, hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder with no one in particular.

Anything with the power to make you laugh over thirty years later isn’t a waste of time. I think something like that is very close to immortality.