in her dreams, blood tasted like fizzy strawberry soda. If you drank it too fast, you got brain freeze. When she was older, after she'd licked a cut on her finger, the taste of that became the taste in her dreams: copper and tears.

Can't get away from your own self.

Every hero is the villain of his own story.

Changing is what people do when they have no options left.

I know how to be the witness to her grief. I don't know how to be this kind of villain.

There’s people who do things and people who never do—who say they will someday, but they just don’t. I want to go on a quest. I’ve always wanted to go on a quest. And now that I have one, I’m not backing down from it. I’m not going home until it’s complete.

You have to write a lot. And you have to rewrite what you wrote a lot more.