Sometimes words come out of me and I don't know where they come from or why. They're like falling stars tumbling through the universe; bright, burning things that can't be stopped.

I wasn't going to let things happen to me any more. I was going to make them happen.

Books are many things: lullabies for the weary, ointment for the wounded, armour for the fearful and nests for those in need of a home.

Sometimes words come out of me and I don't know where they come from or why. They're like falling stars tumbling through the universe; bright, burning things that can't be stopped.

Sometimes I can see colour without opening my eyes. I saw that Billy's heart was no colour and every colour. Like water or diamonds or crystals, it's pure and reflects the light.

When the doors closed behind me I felt like a bird had got inside my chest and was beating its wings trying to get loose, and it wasn't leaving much room for me to breathe.

I don't make promises in case I can't keep them. Sometimes you can't help it; things stop you.