She existed in her friends; there she was. All the parts of herself she'd forgotten. She knew herself best when she was with them.

Don't ask me any questions right now. I'm grumpy and I'll probablly make fun of you. -Effie Kaligaris

She kept walking. The very small, brave part of her brain knew that this would be her one chance. If she turned around, she would lose it.

I do believe that characters in novels belong to their writers and their readers pretty equally. I've learned a lot of things about the characters I write from people who read about them. Readers expand them in ways I don't think of and take them to places I can't go.

Maybe the truth is, there's a little bit of loser in all of us. Being happy isn't having everything in your life be perfect. Maybe it's about stringing together all the little things.

It's so much easier to have no expectations than to have big ones.

She got tired of herself. She got tired of not being able to say what she wanted or do what she wanted or even want what she wanted.