If it's us", she whispered, "how come you get to decide?" When he didn't answer - couldn't answer - she turned and stared out the front window. As it turned out, they were still in the parking lot. They hadn't gotten anywhere at all.

I haven't run out of ideas yet. Usually while I'm working on a book, I'm doing research for the next one!

I wonder if the conversations you've never had with someone count, if you've been over them a thousand times in your mind.

Sometimes, all it takes to become human again is someone who can see you that way, no matter how you present on the surface.

After all, the only way to communicate is to find someone who can comprehend; the only way to be forgiven is to find someone who is willing to forgive.

Life sometimes gets so bogged down in the details, you forget you are living it.

What if it turns out that a life isn’t defined by who you belong to or where you came from, by what you wished for or whom you’ve lost, but instead by the moments you spend getting from each of these places to the next?