He was out hunting for Cortman. It had become a relaxing hobby, hunting for Cortman; one of the few diversions left to him. - Richard Matheson

Let this hell be our heaven.

After a while, though, even the deepest sorrow faltered, even the most penetrating despair lost its scalpel edge. The flagellant’s curse, he thought, to grow inured even to the whip.

God, how impossible life is without money. Nothing can ever overcome it, it's everything when it's anything. How can I write in peace with endless worries of money, money, money? (“Disappearing Act”)