Loneliness is a mirror, and recognizes itself.

They don't really pay attention to me, except when they need my blood or something. I wouldn't even be alive, if it wasn't for Kate being sick.

It turns out that sharing the past with someone is different from reliving it when you’re alone. It feels less like a wound, more like a poultice.

Extraordinary things are always hiding in places people never think to look.

That's what happens to dreams, life gets in the way.

Many of my books come from what if questions that I can't answer, things that I'm worried about as either a woman, a wife, a mom, an American.

You can't pay a landlord in dogma.