Never lend your car keys to someone you gave birth to.

Her writing was her only escape, her only means of survival. It was a respite from a cruel world, despite seemingly comfortable surroundings.

There was nothing you couldn't do if you wanted it bad enough, and were willing to work hard enough to get it.

If you see the magic in a fairy tale, you can face the future.

Not everyone is meant to stay forever.

My kids are more precious to me than anything. I'm with them all day, and I write all night.

Like a small animal burrowing into its hole, I shift furniture around, and back myself into a cozy corner, with my back to the wall...and then I can write.