"When I was younger I didn't have much financially, like we couldn't afford a lot of stuff and I remember seeing little girls' rooms on TV and they'd all be pink. I didn't have my own room, I shared with my brother, so I would have this daydream and imagine that one day I could have my own room and it would all be pink, like Cinderella's."

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From daydreams on the road there was no waking. He plodded on. He could remember everything of her save her scent. Seated in a theatre with her beside him leaning forward listening to the music. Gold scrollwork and sconces and the tall columnar folds of the drapes at either side of the stage. She held his hand in her lap and he could feel the tops of her stockings through the thin stuff of her summer dress. Freeze this frame. Now call down your dark and your cold and be damned.

— Cormac McCarthy