I assumed everything bad in the world could happen, because everything bad in the world already did happen.

I was not a lovable child, and I'd grown into a deeply unlovable adult. Draw a picture of my soul, and it'd be a scribble with fangs.

The truly frightening flaw in humanity is our capacity for cruelty - we all have it.

Give me a man with a little fight in him, a man who calls me on my bullshit. (But who also kind of likes my bullshit.)

People focus on the darker female characters in my books, but for every one of those, I can also show you an equally screwed up man that no one ever comments about, or a nicer woman that no one comments about.

The worst feeling: when you just have to wait and prepare yourself for the lie.

Sometimes I think I won't ever feel safe until I can count my last days on one hand.