I just know there's an albino living in the colored quarters. I can feel it in my bones.

It’s funny, most people can be around someone and then gradually begin to love them and never know exactly when it happened

The food in the South is as important as food anywhere because it defines a person's culture.

Dena had always been a loner. She did not feel connected to anything. Or anybody. She felt as if everybody else had come into the world with a set of instructions about how to live and someone had forgotten to give them to her. She had no clue what she was supposed to feel, so she had spent her life faking at being a human being, with no idea how other people felt. What was it like to really love someone? To really fit in or belong somewhere? She was quick, and a good mimic, so she learned at an early age to give the impression of a normal, happy girl, but inside she had always been lonely.

He had mourned each of those great trains as, one by one, they were pulled off the lines and left to rust in some yard, like old aristocrats, fading away; antique relics of times gone by.

All right, then, I'd die for you. How about that? Don't you think somebody could die for love?

I longed to be a writer, always wanted to be a writer.