As long as we remember a person, they're not really gone. Their thoughts, their feelings, their memories, they become a part of us.
What strange places our lives can carry us to, what dark passages. - Justin Cronin
What strange places our lives can carry us to, what dark passages.
- Justin Cronin
As long as we remember a person, they're not really gone. Their thoughts, their feelings, their memories, they become a part of us. - Justin Cronin
My rule has always been, write the next part of the book that you seem to know well. So I won't necessarily write chapter two after chapter one. - Justin Cronin
My rule has always been, write the next part of the book that you seem to know well. So I won't necessarily write chapter two after chapter one.
I have any number of completely dark obsessions and fascinations, and none of this was present in my profile or my growing profile as a writer. - Justin Cronin
I have any number of completely dark obsessions and fascinations, and none of this was present in my profile or my growing profile as a writer.
We live, we die. Somewhere along the way, if we're lucky, we may find someone to help lighten the load. - Justin Cronin
We live, we die. Somewhere along the way, if we're lucky, we may find someone to help lighten the load.
This ravishing world. This achingly bittersweet, ravishing world. - Justin Cronin
This ravishing world. This achingly bittersweet, ravishing world.
On a fading summer evening, late in the last hours of his old life, Peter Jaxon-son of Demetrius and Prudence Jaxon, First Family; descendent of Terr… - Justin Cronin
On a fading summer evening, late in the last hours of his old life, Peter Jaxon-son of Demetrius and Prudence Jaxon, First Family; descendent of Terr…
Behind every writer stands a very large bookshelf. - Justin Cronin
Behind every writer stands a very large bookshelf.
A thousand recollected lives were passing through her, a thousand stories - of love and work, of parents and children, of duty and joy and grief. Bed… - Justin Cronin
A thousand recollected lives were passing through her, a thousand stories - of love and work, of parents and children, of duty and joy and grief. Bed…
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