Joe Schreiber Quotes
“Human beings are like the screwed-up children of alcoholic parents in that way, picking up the pieces afterward and trying to make up reasons why. You could argue that’s what makes us interesting, and maybe it is to some alien race studying us from a million miles away. From where I sit it just seems pathetic and sad.”
“You are never going to stop me from achieving my goal, Perry. You ought to know that by now. Do you wish to know the definition of a tragic hero?”“Not particularly.”“A tragic hero is an individual who, with every attempt to restore things to normal, only pushes himself further away from normalcy.”She nodded. “That is you, Perry.”
“I’m not helping you kill anybody else. It’s just not happening. I’m done.”“What makes you think you have a choice?”“You know why? I’ll tell you. Because we were just kissing in the street, and deep down, I don’t believe you could actually blow up my house or kill my sister. I just don’t, and she’s probably not even in the house anymore anyway, so if you want to go in there and shoot somebody, fine, but you’re on your own.”Gobi paused, seeming to consider all of this. “What is it that you want to hear from me, Perry? Do you want me to tell you that these are bad people that I am killing tonight? Because they are. They are very bad people. They deserve to die, each and every one of them.”“Nobody deserves to die.”“Oh, really?”“Okay, I mean, maybe people like Hitler and Pol Pot . . . dictators, tyrants, African warlords who starve their people into submission . . . but that guy at the bar wasn’t an evil man.”“How do you know? Because he had drinks with Hemingway?”“I just know.”
“I dreamed about you sometimes.
In my dreams we were walking down Tenth Avenue together in the dark. You hadn’t been shot after all, and we were both all right. I asked you if you were done, and you said yes, it was finished.
In my dreams the streetlights all went off as we walked past them, but I could still see perfectly clearly to the corner. There was heat and light pouring out of you like a lantern, shining down the sidewalk in front of us, filling the intersection with amazing white light. When I reached for your hand you let me keep it there and smiled. You kissed me one more time.
In my dreams I always knew that meant that I was about to wake up. The light spilling out of your face and eyes and skin blazed up higher, and you said you had to go.
You said it had to be this way.
You said you were a goddess of fire.
Life went on. It always did, and that summer was no exception.”
“Damn it, talk to me. Who are you?”Now she looked back at me, her green eyes full and hard and very bright. “I am Death.”I felt an inward shudder pass over me, a reflexive tremor of dread. The first time I tried to speak, my throat was too dry and I had to swallow twice just to get enough moisture to form words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”“You are in no position to question me, Perry.”Her voice was brittle. “You must think of your family.”“Believe me, I am.”“Then for now at least, you will do as I say.”I thought about my little sister, alone in the house and frightened, and the two men with cropped military haircuts, how they had come after us downtown, and my fear crackled up into a sharp orange flame of fury. “You should never have brought my family into this. You had no right to do that.”“I did what was necessary.”“Putting Annie’s life in danger? How does that help the plan?”“It was an insurance policy, nothing more. Everything else is just a cover.”“What about when we were dancing?”I said. “Was that just part of the cover too?”She turned back to the window, the lights of the city playing across our faces as the cab cut through the night. “Gobi.”But she didn’t look over again.”
“New York was still here, but it had changed in our absence. It was long after midnight, and vast walls of fog off the river shimmered along the sidewalks like the ghosts of tenements that had long ago been leveled to make way for the parking garages and office buildings. It was a spectral Manhattan, a double-exposed landscape where the past folded back over on itself in overlapping decades.”
- Born: The United States.
- Description: Joe Schreiber was born in Michigan but spent his formative years in Alaska, Wyoming and northern California. Until recently, he has never lived in the same address for longer than a year. Before settling in Hershey he lived in New York, Boston, Martha’s Vineyard, Chicago, Los Angeles, Portland (OR), and Philadelphia. Becoming a parent forced him to consider a career with more reliable income, and he got a job as an MRI tech at Hershey Medical Center. Joe is married and has two children. He is the author of Chasing The Dead, Eat The Dark, and his newest tale of terror; No Doors, No Windows, which went on sale the same day as STAR WARS: DEATH TROOPERS. You can find him on the web at his blog ScaryParent.Blogspot.Com and on Suvudu.Com, where he is an occasional horror columnist.