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“You know what else he said?" Anne Marie asked."Tell me," I said. I didn't want to know, of course, but she was going to tell me anyway, so why not invite in the inevitable, which is why, in the movies, vampires have to be asked inside by their victims and always are.”
Brock Clarke“I have no idea,' he said, and that's another thing I'll put in my arsonist's guide: be wary of a man who says, 'I have no idea,' when asked why his wife doesn't like something he's done, which of course is just another way of saying be wary of men in general.”
Brock Clarke, An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England“How did he get so terribly smart, so determined? Maybe it was the pain I'd caused that made him that way, and if that were true, then I'd sort of had a hand in it, in making him as smart and devious as he was. I was really starting to dislike the guy. But I also felt a little proud, like Dr. Frankenstein must have felt when his monster turned on him, because after all, it was Dr. Frankenstein who had made the monster strong and cunning enough to turn on him.”
Brock Clarke, An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England“We were sitting outside at our favorite Italian restaurant, Callini’s, one Friday lunch when Sam revealed to me what his ideal female looked like. A few women walked by and Sam used words like “big legs” and “too big up top” to describe women that barely weighed over 100 pounds. The following bomb then pried its way out of his mouth, “I’m still in love with Winny Cooper.”I replied with shock in my voice, “Winny Cooper from The Wonder Years?”Sam glowed, “Yeah, Winny is my ideal woman.”“You do realize that she was a little girl in that show,” I said trying to awaken Sam’s better judgment.He started laughing, “Winnie was a babe. I had a huge crush on her.”I needed clarification: “You do realize that you were in your 20s when that show was on. So, that would mean that you had a crush on a 12 year-old.”
Phil Wohl, Lunch with Sam“It's over, Sam. Finally.""Yeah," he said. "I guess it is.""Turn out the light, Sam."Sam reached for the switch and turned out the light.”
Michael Grant, Light“Now, who else speaks for Perdido Beach?”Bouncing Bette said, “Sam Temple here went into a burning building to rescue a little girl. He can speak for me, anyway.”There was a murmur of agreement.“Yeah, Sam is a hero for real,” a voice said.“He could have died,” another voice seconded.“Yeah, Sam’s the guy.”Caine’s smile came and disappeared so quickly, Sam wasn’t sure it had happened. For that millisecond it was a look of triumph. Caine walked straight up to Sam, open and forthright, hand extended.“There are probably better people than me,” Sam said, backing away.”
Michael Grant, Gone“Well, you have now, Sam, dear Sam,’ said Frodo, and he lay back in Sam’s gentle arms, closing his eyes, like a child at rest when night-fears are driven away by some loved voice or hand. Sam felt that he could sit like that in endless happiness...”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King“No offense, Sam, but you’re going off the road. Off the road! Sam! You’re going off the road!”“No, I’m not; shut up,” Sam snapped as he guided the huge truck back onto the road, narrowly avoiding overturning in the ditch.“This is how I’m going to die,” Jack said. “Crammed in like this in a ditch.”“Oh, please,” Sam said. “You’re strong enough to tear your way out even if we did crash.”“Do me a favor and rescue me, too,”
Michael Grant, Fear“Sam, no!” Edilio snapped.Sam missed a step, then stopped. He looked at Edilio, puzzled.“We’re scattered. And we can’t risk you. You die and the light dies with you.”“Are you out of your mind? You think I’m going to let Drake come in here and take Diana?”“Not you, Sam. Dekka, yes. Orc, yes. He’s out there, too. And send Jack as well. Anyone but you.”Sam looked like he’d been punched. Like someone had knocked the wind out of him. He blinked and started to say something and stopped.“You aren’t replaceable, Sam. Figure it out, okay? It’s going dark and you make light. So this isn’t going to be your battle. Not now. It’s on the rest of us to step up.”
Michael Grant, Fear“Hunter’s entire body writhed and squirmed.The side of his head was partly gone. A creature, like some monstrous melding of insect and eel, protruded from Hunter’s shoulder and as they stood there rooted in horror it took a vicious bite of Hunter’s flesh.Taylor was suddenly gone.Dekka’s face was grim, her eyes wet.“I tried . . . ,” Hunter said. He held up his hands, mimicked pressing them against his head. “It didn’t work.”“I can do it,” Sam said softly.“I’m scared,” Hunter said.“I know.”“It’s ’cause I killed Harry. God has to punish me. I tried to be good but I’m bad.”“No, Hunter,” Sam said gently. “You paid your dues. You fed the kids. You’re a good guy.”“I’m a good hunter.”“The best.”“I don’t know what’s happening. What’s happening, Sam?”“It’s just the FAYZ, Hunter,” Sam said.“Can the angels find me here so I can go to heaven?”Sam didn’t answer. It was Dekka who spoke. “Do you still remember any prayers, Hunter?”The insectlike creature was almost completely emerged from Hunter’s shoulder. Legs were becoming visible. It had wings folded against its body. It looked like a gigantic ant, or wasp, but silver and brass and covered with a sheen of slime.It was emerging like a chicken breaking out of an egg. Being born. And as the creature was born, it fed on Hunter’s numbed body.Jerky movements beneath Hunter’s shirt testified to more of the larvae emerging.“Do you remember ‘now I lay me down to sleep’?” Dekka asked.“Now I lay me down to sleep,” Hunter said. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep.”Sam raised his hands, palms out.“If I should die—”Twin beams of light hit Hunter’s chest and face. His shirt caught fire. Flesh melted. He was dead before he could feel anything.Sam played the light up and down Hunter’s body. The smell was sickening. Jack wanted to look away, but how could he?Sudden darkness as Sam terminated the light.Sam lowered his hands to his side.They stood there in the darkness. Jack breathed through his mouth, trying not to smell the burned flesh.Then they heard a sound. Many sounds.Sam raised his hands and pale light glowed.Hunter was all but gone.The things that had been inside him were still there.”
Michael Grant, Plague