Sheena

“There is only a black fence
and a wide field and a barn of Wyeth red.

The smell of anger chokes the air.
Ravens of September rain descend.

Some say a mad mad hermit man lived here
talking to himself and the woodchuck.

But he's gone. No reason. No sense.
He just wandered off one day,
past the onions, past the fence.

Forget the letters. Forget love.

Troy is nothing more than
a black finger of charcoal
frozen in lake ice.

And near where the owl watches
and the old bear dreams,

the parapet of memory burns to the ground
taking heaven with it.”
― Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

“There was never anything to fear. Which is a little disappointing, frankly. Maybe I wanted to be obliterated.”
― Mona Awad, Rouge

“Why did god create a dual universe?
So he might say
‘Be not like me. I am alone.'
And it might be heard.”
― Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves

“There was a space there, too, like the one between me and Mother. Like the one between me and everyone forever after. There has been a space between me and everything ever since you turned to smoke. There has been a wall of glass.”
― Mona Awad, Rouge