To look at the entire journey all at once was stupidity. You thought of it in segments; that was the only way. - Richard Matheson

The last man in the world was irretrievably stuck with his delusions.

In a world of monotonous horror
there could be no salvation in wild dreaming.

Toward the end of the plague, yellow journalism had spread a cancerous dread of vampires to all corners of the nation. He could remember himself the rash of pseudo-scientific articles that veiled an out-and-out fright campaign designed to sell papers. There was something grotesquely amusing in that; the frenetic attempt to sell papers while the world died. Not that all newspapers had done that. Those papers that had lived in honesty and integrity died the same way.