I always hated when my scars started to fade, because as long as I could still see them, I knew why I was hurting.

It is strange to think that we might have crossed paths, and still not have known what we were missing.

It's a fallacy that writers have to shut themselves up in their ivory towers to write. I have all these interruptions, three of which I gave birth to. If I was thrown for a loop every time I was distracted I could never get anything done.

It's because of libraries that books like mine get recommended to book clubs and avid readers, who in turn pass them onto others looking to be whisked away from the world for a little while...and perhaps to learn a bit about themselves in the process.

That's the crazy thing about lies. You start to fall for them, yourself.

I may not have a degree, but I certainly got an education.

How could you not want to draw breath one more day? How could your own life be such a cheap commodity? But then I started to understand: when your existence is hell, death must be heaven.