Right now, America looks like a fatheaded, shortsighted, gas-guzzling arrogant blowhard to the rest of the world.

They turned to Angel. "We will call you Little One," the leader said, obviously deciding to dispense with the whole confusing name thing. "Okay," said Angel agreeably. "I'll call you Guy in a White Lab Coat." He frowned. "That can be his Indian name," I suggested.

It's funny how different people are. If I'd been this kid and someone was snarling "Ordering a pizza?" at me, without even thinking, I would have snarled back "Yeah. You want pepperoni?" -Maximum Ride

I led the way toward the crowd, trying to look casual, like, Fly? Me? Nah.

Then I went to bed and cried into my pillow. I wasn't sad, not at all. It was just so beautiful to have an intense feeling and the right words at the same time. What are we but our stories?

I saw the first episode of "The Walking Dead," and that's all I've seen. I thought it was good. I used to love zombies when I was little, but I don't like them the way I used to. I'm not knocking the show.

I don't think of myself as a writer.