There's an essential order you have to follow in everything. It's a way of showing respect, following everything in the correct order.

When I wake up, my pillow’s cold and damp with tears. But tears for what? I have no idea.

Even if we could turn back, we'd probably never end up where we started.

She's kind of funny looking. Her face is out of balance--broad forehead, button nose, freckled cheeks, and pointy ears. A slammed-together, rough sort of face you can't ignore. Still, the whole package isn't so bad. For all I know maybe she's not so wild about her own looks, but she seems comfortable with who she is, and that's the important thing.

If you want everything to be nice and straight all the time, then go live in a world made with a triungular ruler.

I always write my novels with music (I don't listened to the music seriously.) Music seems to encourage me.

We're all kind of weird and twisted and drowning.