I was unemployable when I got out of college.

She may have looked normal on the outside, but once you'd seen her handwriting you knew she was deliciously complicated inside.

Winter is the season of alcoholism and despair.

I want an ending that’s satisfying. I’m more of a classical writer than a modernist one in that I want the ending to be coherent and feel like an ending. I don’t like when it just seems to putter out. I mean, life is chaotic enough.

She was a large, disordered woman, like a child's drawing that didn't stay within the lines.

It was the combination of many factors... With most people, suicide is like Russian roulette. Only one chamber has a bullet. With the Lisbon girls, the gun was loaded. A bullet for family abuse. A bullet for genetic predisposition. A bullet for historical malaise. A bullet for inevitable momentum. The other two bullets are impossible to name, but that doesn't mean the chambers were empty.

You don't understand me. I'm a teenager. I've got problems!