Why fit in when you're born to stand out?

We wanted to define her, to wrap her up as we did each other, but we could not seem to get past "weird" and "strange" and "goofy." Her ways knocked us off balance.

His smile was so wide he’d have had to break it into sections to fit it through a doorway

Whom do I write for? I write for the story. Each story, it seems to me, knows best how it should be told. As I once put my ear to the railroad track, I listen now for the voice of my story.

Everybody has an angel hiding inside. When you die, your angel comes out. You can die, but not your angel. Your angel never dies.

It (enchantment) started when the earth was born. It never stops. It is, always. It's just here.

You are truly focused when you're so focused that you don't know you're focused.