We are, largely, who we remember ourselves to be. That's why habits are so hard to break. If we know ourselves to be liars, we expect not to tell the truth. If we think of ourselves as honest, we try harder.

I'm sorry I kissed you- it was selfish and it upset you- but you can't ask me to pretend I didnt want to.

Keep going' she told herself, 'Don't look back.' But she looked anyways.

Jewels, lies, slips of paper, dried flowers, memories of thing long past, useless quotations, idle hands, beads, buttons, and mischief.

Death has his favorites, like anyone. Those who are beloved of Death will not die.

It is my belief that books are living things.

What an author doesn't know could fill a book.