To repeat, the way you get to the huge, impossible yes is, you start collecting a lot of easy, small yeses.

The evil queen was stupid to play Snow White's game. There's an age where a woman has to move on to another kind of power. Money, for example. Or a gun.

And the seventh rule is if this is your first night at fight club, you have to fight.

This wasn't any mere song and dance; here was a bold, blaring declaration howling itself into the empty face of death.

You can tell a more over-the-top incredible story if you use a nonfiction form.

I'm not sure what we're running from. Nobody. Or the future. Fate. Growing up. Getting old. Picking up the pieces. As if running we won't have to get on with our lives.

I might be a touch of a sadist and a little bit jejune... but at least I'm not a victim, not any longer. I hope. I hope, therefore I am.