“Slim throws me a startled look. I aim my bolt shooter at him. Who am I, you sonofabitch? Helluva time for a identity crisis, he says.” — Moira Young Copy Share Image
“The night starts to drift in. The crimson fingers of the dyin sun bleed into gray. The first stars blink down at us. Not… — Moira Young Copy Share Image
“Travelling men make wide detours just to be in the same room as her. That's the most that even the best of of them… — Moira Young Copy Share Image
“Feeling sorrow is fine, he says. It's right. But you need to use those feelings, channel them into action. Just as you did with… — Moira Young Copy Share Image
“Whatever it is, I sure didn’t go lookin fer it. You don’t hafta, she says. If it’s meant to be, it’ll find you. We… — Moira Young Copy Share Image
“Don't give in to fear. Be strong, like i know you are. An never give up, d'you unnerstand, never. No matter what happens. I… — Moira Young Copy Share Image
“You got three seconds, he says, then they're comin down. He starts to count. One... two... I turn and run. I can still hear… — Moira Young Copy Share Image
“We ain't got time fer you to yell at me or fer me to tell you everythin that's happened, so I'm jest gonna cover… — Moira Young Copy Share Image
