A world that was crowded with people could still be a very lonely place.

It is a remarkable question- Do all the wonderful things happen when we are not aware of them?

Is Fate getting what you deserve, or deserving what you get?

Fiction is like that, once it is released into the world: contagious, persistent. Like the contents of Pandora's box, a story that's freely given can't be contained anymore. It becomes infectious, spreading from the person who created it to the person who listens, and passes it on.

What I want, more than anything, is to turn back time a little. To become the kid I used to be, who believed whatever my mother said was one hundred percent true and right without looking hard enough to see the hairline crack.

As for his name, well, what attorney wouldn't want to be able put a Judge in a crate every now and then?

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