Things that break - be they bones, hearts, or promises - can be put back together but will never really be whole.

I have come to believe that this life I'm wearing will never really fit.

The joke's on them. One little hypodermic wont' be enough. Split a piece of wood, and they'll find me. Lift up a stone, and they'll find me. Look in the mirror, and they'll find me...If you really want to know what makes someone a killer, ask yourself what would make you do it.

Maybe mothers - consciously or subconsciously - repelled their daughters in different ways.

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

Fiction allows for moral questioning, but through the back door. Personally, I like books that make you think - books you're still wondering about three days after you finish them; books you hand to a friend and say "Read this, so we can talk about it."

When heaven breaks, who fixes it?