Obviously, a writer can't know everything about what she writes. It's impossible.

Oh, if the moon only had a secret, if the moon only held a truth. But the moon was just the moon.

My conscience is killing me, isn't it? And when you're immortal that can be a really long and ignominious death

Dickens is a very underrated writer at the moment. Everyone in his time admired him but I think right now he's not spoken of enough.

And I loved this moment for all it's pain...We seemed for a moment like two parts of the same thing.

Let the flesh instruct the mind.

I don't believe in hell. The idea that a supreme being would make hell is ridiculous. An eternity of pain that results in no learning, reformation or rebirth is a nauseating idea. It's one of the reasons I left Christianity. I simply could not accept that version of God.