The original fairy tale was about the youngest sister going into a room in the castle and finding all the bodies of the wives that came before her - she is confronted with truth, thinking about how often we think we know people and we really don't.

Some fates are guaranteed, no matter who tries to intervene.

That was the way illness appeared in a house, in the corners, in between floorboards, on the hooks in the closet, along with the sweaters and coats.

Unfinished business always comes back to haunt you, and a man who swears he'll love you forever isn't finished with you until he's done.

Pride is a funny thing; it can make what is truly worthless appear to be a treasure.

I hate it when people tell me the end of the story because my mother always read the last page of a novel first to see whether she wanted to read it. It was a strange reading habit.

I feel as if when you love a book it becomes a part of you whether you have it on your shelves or not.