The truth was, I didn’t know if I could do it. I didn’t know if I was as strong as Aunt Lillian. I found myself remembering one of those stories of hers, the one about folks crossing over, how they came back either poets or crazy, and I sure couldn’t rhyme more than the odd verse or two of doggerel.
I looked to the back of my eyeballs as I tried to drift off in the waking darkness of my insomniac night, and then, it may seem crazy, but I popped out of my body as if on an elastic band.
Parker Gordon, Parallel Lives
“Kill them!” the queen cried. “Kill them all. Then go back into their world and kill their mother. Kill all their friends and their friends’ families. Burn down their homes. Salt their fields.” There was a maniacal look in the bee queen’s eyes, but I suppose it didn’t much matter. Crazy or not, she was the queen and there was nothing we could do to stop her
Charles de Lint, Seven Wild Sisters: A Modern Fairy Tale