“There are people whose eyes you must avoid, whose attention you must not draw to yourself. They are strange, parasitic creatures, lost souls seeking to stretch across the abyss and make fatal contact with the warm, constant flow of humanity.… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
There are people whose eyes you must avoid, whose attention you must not draw to yourself. They are strange, parasitic creatures, lost souls seeking to stretch across the abyss and make fatal contact with the warm, constant flow of humanity.… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
There is sometimes a feeling in crime fiction that good writing gets in the way of story. I have never felt that way. All… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
He had quite liked the dwarfs. He often had no idea what they were talking about, but for a group of homicidal, class-obsessed small… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
I'm a ghost," said the small figure, then added, a little uncertainly, "Boo? — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“There is a price to be paid for everything, and it is a good idea to find out that price before you make the… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“She was a round, curvy woman who, for Parker, brought to mind a figure assembled from a selection of soft fruits. Aside” — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“When Louis relaxed, it was an indication that a threat was at hand and he was preparing to act, as when an archer releases… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“The presence in the living room called to her, summoning her in a hundred voices and none, a great dissonant harmony alien yet familiar,… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“Warraner would rather have been the king of nothing than the prince of something.” — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“had been like wandering into the wrong carnival sideshow, the kind that left one feeling sick and slightly soiled.” — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“think you just like tethering goats.” “Well, be sure to tell me when your rope begins” — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“David could tell, by looking at her face as she read, whether or not the story contained in the book was living inside her,… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“Before she came ill, David's mother would often tell him that stories were alive. They weren't alive in the way that people were alive,… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
“Stories wanted to be read, David's mother would whisper. They needed it. It was the reason they forced themselves from their world into ours.… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
She was plump, with dyed red hair and a face so caked with cosmetics that the floor of the Amazon jungle probably saw more… — John Connolly Copy Share Image
