Maybe if God gives you a handicap, he makes sure you've got a few extra doses of humor to take the edge off.

Was there a language of loss? Did everyone who suffered speak a different dialect?

The question I hate the most is "How did you DO it - write novels and raise your children simultaneously!" I mean, do MALE authors get asked that??

Here I am, wasting away inside a book I wish I could escape, and all she wants to do is stay in the story. If I could talk to this girl Delilah, I’d ask her why on earth she would ever trade a single second of the world she’s in for the one in which I’m stuck

I have loved before, but it didn’t feel like this. I have kissed before, but it didn’t burn me alive. Maybe it lasts a minute, and maybe it’s an hour. All I know is that kiss, and how soft her skin is when it brushes against mine, and that, even if I did not know it until now, I have been waiting for this person forever.

If there's something as good as [him] in my life, I'm going to pay for it.

Life isn't nearly as stable as we want it to be.