She's in the club. The hopelessly-outnumbered-and-surrounded-by-monsters club.

The world is as I always intuited it to be: weird, fractured and full of monsters.

If the sleep of reason produces monsters, what does the sleep of unreason produce?

Yes, my dear child, monsters are real. I happen to have one hanging in my basement.

Kyōko: You... you call yourself human?!Homura: Of course not. Neither are you.

I am born here among the monsters; if I have to survive I must act like one of them.

We are a race prone to monsters, she thought, and when we produce one we worship it.

The monsters of our childhood do not fade away, neither are they ever wholly monstrous

Can you imagine life without the horror genre? There would be no monsters. Only a**holes.

I cannot be assured ofexactly what I createdbe it madness and monsteror beauty and light.

Sometimes, monsters are tired of sleeping under your bed, so they climb up into your head.

They are monsters, Malorie thinks. But she knows they are more than this. They are infinity.

The monsters are gone.""Really?" Doubtful."I killed the monsters. That's what fathers do.

You really didn't appreciate how thick, how powerful water was until you had to fight it.

You already know all about monsters,” he said regretfully. “Don’t you kitten?