Dean Koontz

Intensity

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    Bookaddictionhas quotedlast year
    It is the purpose for which we exist. This reckless caring.
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    There was more truth in fiction than in science.
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    Without anguish and agony, there was no hope of winning.
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    Hope, which had always seemed ennobling to her, now seemed as dehumanizing as feverish greed, as squalid as lust, just an animal hunger for more life at any cost.
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    Bitterness can be as pleasing as sweetness when you learn that every experience, every sensation, is worthwhile."
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    Lovers, if they were worthwhile, required more than simple commitment; they needed revelation, sharing, the bond of emotional intimacy.
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    Risk is at the heart of an intense existence.
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    The reef of the soul is built from varied experience, not from repetitive sensation.
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    Power is living while others inevitably perish.
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    Vess considers, not for the first time, that there is a similarity between the texture of melting chocolate and that of thickening blood.
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    But she couldn't quiet herself, and she couldn't stop shaking any more than a rabbit could cease shivering in the shadow of a wolf.
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    His time in this body is finite and precious—and therefore must not be wasted.
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    But victimhood was seductive, a release from responsibility and caring: Fear would be transmuted into weary resignation; failure would no longer generate guilt but, instead, would spawn a comforting self-pity.
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    she had decided that instinct was, in fact, the quiet voice of God.
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    She was overcome by a compulsion to scream with Laura as a dog wails in sympathy when it hears another dog suffering, a primal need to howl in misery at the sheer helplessness of human existence in a universe full of dead stars, and she had to fight that urge.
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    Grief thrived in a quiet heart, and right now hers thundered with terror and revulsion.
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    But the choice before her was the essence of the entire human agony: not knowing was ultimately worse than knowing.
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    Synesthesia: a confusion of the senses in which a scent might register as a flash of color, a sound actually might be perceived as a scent, and the texture of a surface under the hand might seem to be a trilling laugh or a scream.
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    It's not possible to retreat into a bottomless pit—one can only plunge.
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