What if I don't want the monster
to stop being a monster?

What if that's the only anchor I have left?
What if my sanity depends on being able to point
at a bad thing and say, That is the bad thing.

Haven't I already lost enough time
losing track of who the enemy is?
I've spent half of my life not knowing the difference

between killing myself and fighting back.

Harry Dresden: Maybe it wasn't anything I'd done. Maybe the monsters had gone on strike. Yeah right.

Boo, I think I no longer believe in monsters as faces in the floor or feral infants or vampires or whatever. I think at seventeen now I believe the only real monsters might be the type of liar where there's simply no way to tell. The ones who give nothing away.

Ne cherchez plus mon cœur; des monstres l’ont mangé.

I have broken the machine and touched the ghost of matter.

I’ve had enough fighting
I’m more into righting
What’s wrong when it’s broken apart

Demons, demons, we both had enough of our own
Demons, demons, we don’t have to fight them alone

The monsters were never
under my bed.
Because the monsters
were inside my head.

I fear no monsters,
for no monsters I see.
Because all this time
the monster has been me.

The thing that I loved so much about the monsters is that the assumption is that they're broken and that fixing them no longer makes them a monster so they have to stay that way. And if you want to write something sort of complicated that's about kind of the nature of us all having a monster inside of us, I mean, I think that's why the monsters have endured. They're all weird reflections of aspects of our personalities. I can't really think of anything I'd rather be doing than that.

and that monsters don’t always know they are monsters.

Everyone thinks their monsters are visible to the world, but they're not - they're figments of our overblown imaginations, warped projections of our own self-image. Once you stop seeing them, they'll fully disappear. Yes, it's that easy.

Maybe the world has run out of room for monsters... or maybe... they're just getting harder to recognize.

I’m not brave any more darling. I’m all broken. They’ve broken me.

I was broken and then I broke some more, and I am not yet healed but I have started believing I will be.

I couldn't believe I'd come this far, lost Tyson, suffered through so much, only to fail - stopped by a big stupid monster in a baby-blue tuxedo kilt. Nobody was going to swat down my friends like that! I mean...nobody, not Nobody. Ah, you know what I mean.