This was what it meant to be human, to know that time moved and all things changed.

I'm at the point where going forward is easier than going back.

She can feel his blood, just beneath his skin; when he breathes, the air fills with smoke. He's like a dragon, ancient and fearless.

They weren't true stories; they were better than that.

Here's the thing about luck...you don't know if it's good or bad until you have some perspective.

No one knows you like a person with whom you've shared a childhood. No one will ever understand you in quite the same way.

I read Betty Smith's "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn," all of Shirley Jackson's books, which I loved.