My sorrow is I used to read all the time and now, as a writer, I don't have the time to read.

Being an outsider is the one thing we all have in common.

I didn’t want to be prideful anymore. I wanted to be as hard as and brittle as the stones I carted into the woods. Stones that could not feel or cry or see. I wished not to feel anything at all. In no time, what I wished for, I became.

The best way to die is when your living

This day is going to be awful. It's the sort of day you wouldn't mind losing completely, even if it meant your life would be twenty-four hours shorter.

And then I understood that she had no idea what she'd done to my family. She thought love and hatred were equal.

I heard a sigh, as though the books were breathing. I felt that this was where I belonged. This was where I lived.