It was the sort of beauty you feel so deeply it becomes contagious and somehow makes you feel beautiful too.

He wanted pain, I saw that in him, and what a man wants he will often manage to find.

I wrote to find beauty and purpose, to know that love is possible and lasting and real.... Once I got to my desk, once I started writing, I still believed anything was possible.

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.

Hearts were made for being broken. There's really no way around it if you want to be a human being.

What I like about fairy tales is the language and the matter-of-fact way of introducing magic, where it's accepted that a fox could talk or a gate could just appear in a wall. I think fairy tales are so psychological.

Feel lucky for what you have when you have it. Isn't that the point? Happily ever after doesn't mean happy forever.