I think people do things all the time in the name of love that they shouldn't be doing - such is the nature of us.

The human capacity for burden is like bamboo- far more flexible than you'd ever believe at first glance.

I know what it's like when the things you believe make you feel like you're on the outside looking in.

I don't base my books on my life (thank goodness) and I don't pick the topic first. In fact, the topic picks me - via a question I can't answer as a mom, a wife, a woman, an American. I find myself wondering "What if..." and it blossoms into a whole novel.

This was the reason there was music, he realized. There were some feelings that didn't have words big enough to describe them.

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

There is no cosmic scale on which you can weigh your actions; you learn too late what choices ruin the fragile balance.