Evil is an act, not an appetite. How many haven't wanted to slash the throat of some boor across the dining room table? Present company excepted of course. Everyone has the appetite. If you give in to it, it, that act is evil. The appetite is normal.

No, she wasn't losing language. She was choking on it.

And girls need cold anger. They need the cold simmer, the ceaseless grudge, the talent to avoid forgiveness, the side stepping of compromise. They need to know when they say something that they will never back down, ever, ever.

When I write a book, I write very cleanly from page one to the last page. I hardly ever write out of sequence.

Galinda didn't often stop to consider whether she believed in what she said or not; the whole point of conversations was flow.

Books fall open, you fall in. When you climb out again, you're a bit larger than you used to be.

It's the endlessly thinking about yourself that causes such heart shame.