bleak

Maybe awful things is how God speaks to us, Vernon thought, trudging up the lightless tunnel. Maybe folks don__ trust in good things no more. Maybe awful things is all God__ got to remind us he__ alive. Maybe war is God come to life in men. Vernon pushed on toward the light of day. He stepped out onto the ledge and into the heat, and it felt like leaving a theater after the matinee had shown a sad film, the glare of sunshine after the darkness far too real to suffer.

The Girl does not dream. The Girl has never dreamed.

I guess if there__ one thing I can say about the 21st century, it__ that the 21st century is all flash and no substance_ everything is digital, nothing but files of invisible electronic data on computers and mindless zombies on their cellular phones_ it__ sad how because of the digital age, society is ultimately doomed. Nothing in the digital age is real anymore, and you know, they say celluloid film and ray tube televisions and maybe even paper might become obsolete in this century? _What__ most annoying is that nobody cares, they__e just learned to accept the digital age and get addicted to it_ none of them are ever going to step up and say to the world, __ou__e all a bunch of sheep!_ and even if they did say anything, I doubt anyone would listen_ they__e all too obsessed and attached to their cellular phones and overly big televisions and whatever other moronic things they__e got these days_ it almost makes me want an apocalypse to happen, to erase digital technology and force the world to start over again.

What happened when there was no prospect of anything beyond this generation? What happened when...

Humanity was awful; humanity made you hurt. Humanity was a weakness that would kill everyone, one way or another.

Some prospects for success seems bleak but are not with hard work

On building homes for fallen angels:When I was small - I sought a home,a place to go and rest my bones.Then founded something, of my own,I lived among the restless stones.If seeking leads you back to evil,what good is that, I asked a weevil.He said a home is what you make,it can't be real, if it is fake...And if you wait instead of seek,will you find love, or something bleak?I know (myself) for I have found,a beauty, hidden _ in a sound.Waiting is boring.And so is exploring.A smile is sometimes all it takes.And then your whole world simply breaks.

There's a reason you feel the need to blame yourself," he continues, "from all accounts you're a very careful girl. If you accept the blame, decide you took a rare misstep, you can reassure yourself this was not a random event. If you blame yourself you can believe you're still in control of your universe. You're not, you never will be.

For some, life may be a playground to undermine the brainwaves of others or simply a vainglorious game with an armory of theatrics, illustrating only bleak self-deception, haughty narcissism and dim deficiency in empathy. ("Another empty room")

A mud-stained sunlight began to splatter the sodden fields, and the hateful, nasal world of birds began to come to life. It seemed to me that I was coming out of a suffocating nightmare and that the low clouds flying before the wind were the shreds of an evil dream.