Writing is literally transformative. When we read, we are changed. When we write, we are changed. It's neurological. To me, this is a kind of magic.

He said, You're so tiny, like a doll, you look like you might break. I wanted him to break me. Part of me did.

Flowers are reincarnation. They come out of the earth of our ashes. Nothing else looks so soul-like.

Ugster vinyl pumps, Partridge Family records, plastic daisy jewelry, old postcards. . . . It's a magpie Christmas market.

Everything was chocolate ice cream and kisses and wind.

What happens to the rest of something when you smash its heart?

The wishes might not come true the way you think they will, not everything will be perfect, but love will come because it always does, because why else would it exist and it will make everything hurt a little less. You just have to believe in yourself.