‎Pick ten strangers and stick them in a room, and ask them which of us they feel sorrier for - you or me - and we all know who they'll choose.

Missed opportunities were never superficial wounds; they cut straight to the bone.

My mother moves so fast I do not even see it coming. But she slaps my face hard enough to make my head snap backward. She leaves a print that stains me long after it’s faded. Just so you know: shame is five-fingered.

she told me she'd be a phoenix." The image of the mythical creature rising from the ashes glitters in my mind. "They don't really exist." "She said that depends on whether or not there's someone who can see them.

You could only save someone that wanted to be saved; otherwise, you'd be be dragged down for the count, too.

you can love a person and still hate the decisions they've made, can't you?

I am an activist. I have a really big pulpit with my fiction and I love knowing that I can make people think.