All those moments, those memories. Everything that we are, compressed in just two or three kilos of paper — the weight of a human heart.

Happiness. Simple as a glass of chocolate or tortuous as the heart. Bitter. Sweet. Alive.

I don't tend to do category fiction very well. One of my problems when I was starting off was that publishers were hesitant to handle my books because they were never sure what I was going to do next.

It's a feeling which tells me that any woman can be beautiful in the eyes of a man who loves her.

You seem to know a lot about it," she said. "And you do subtleties." "Yeah. Like I've always wanted to destroy the Nine Worlds while committing suicide." "Well, there's no need to be rude," protested Sif.

I've nothing against kids reading anything they please, but I do have a problem with pink books for girls and black books for boys.

Online communities are an expression of loneliness.