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 always quit at three when my kids come home from school so I feel pretty spoiled

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

Crying wasn't like riding a bike. Give it up, and you quickly forget how it's done.

The sky is already purple; the first few stars have appeared, suddenly, as if someone had thrown a handful of silver across the edge of the world.

I knew what it was to yearn for a life so distant it seemed that it had never been anything more than a dream.

I have crossed over to a place where I never thought I’d be. I am someone I would have never imagined. A secret. A dream. I am this, body and soul. Burn me. Drown me. Tell me lies. I will still be who I am.