Anything pretty,' Claire will tell you, 'it's only for sale because no one wants it.

My books are always about someone obtaining a power to replace the previous sort of power that they held.

Everything is still falling apart.

In the big factory of perfecting human souls, the Earth was kind of tumbler. The sale as the kind people use to polish rocks. All souls come here to rub the sharp edges off each other. This isn't suffering. It's erosion.

It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.

You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. To be or not to be.

For the record, knowing when people are only pretending to like you isn't such a great skill to have.