I have to go. I have a finite amount of life left and I don't want to spend it arguing with you.

I couldn't take much more of this. Being the object two men competed for wasn't as glamorous as it sounded in the movies. The two men who both wanted one hundred percent of my time weren't dashing, international playboys. They were undead and surprisingly immature, considering the youngest was just over a hundred years old.

If we truly seek diversity in fiction, we have to let the needs of others come before our need to define ourselves as social justice allies.

Writers generally get into writing because they want to write, not because they want to be independent publishers, and you can't really fault someone for saying, 'What I'm doing right now works, so there's no reason to change it.'

One minute she acts like she wants to be with me and I'm the one rejecting her. The next, she's got this barbed wire fence and barking dogs around her, like I can't even ask her the simplest questions." "And here I was assuming you didn't care about her." Stabbing his fingers through his hair, he groaned, "I don't!" "And you make it perfectly clear." Men. Idiots.

The belief that a person can and should only feel grief over one sad event at a time is a truly disturbing estimate of our emotional capacity.

It was the damnedest thing, life. Once you decide exactly how things are going to go, something or someone comes along and messes it all up.