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.

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 know that sentence is long and has too many joining words in it but sometimes, when I'm angry, words burst out of me like a shout, or, if I'm sad, they spill out of me like tears, and if I'm happy my words are like a song. If that happens it's one of my rules not to change them because they're coming out of my heart and not my head, and that's the way they're meant to be.

I didn't know what to say when someone's given you a small free kiss in the dark.

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

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

Running away was easy; not knowing what to do next was the hard part.