The more I think about it, the more I believe there has to be a subtle yet satisfying method of revenge.

So you try to think of someone else you're mad at, and the unavoidable answer pops into your little warped brain: everyone.

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.

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

...life is all about chances. You might be safer not taking any. But playing it totally safe means you're only existing. Not living. I want to live.

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

She is angle. I am curve. Together, we are geometric sculpture, and we make perfect sense.