Religion is for followers... Followers and puppets.

Believe it or not, I sold my first novel, Crank, with only seventy-five pages complete. It was in verse then, and it was hard-hitting then.

I wish I were worthy of his love. (Any love.)I should tell him to run. But I can't. I need him.

Then I said it. He said it too. I love you. And everything that went before meant nothing.

But death doesn't scare me. To know exactly when I might expect it, up close and in my face, would actually be a comfort. Because to tell the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape.

I mean, who wants to trudge through life, doing everything just right? Taking no chances means wasting your dreams.

he sucked the nectar from her heart like a famished butterfly.