The process of growing up was nothing more than figuring out what doors hadn't yet been slammed in your face.

Isn’t that what true romance is supposed to be about? Finding the person who’s your soul mate. Someone you dream about at night.Someone whose name is on your lips when you wake up in the morning.

The book that made me want to be a writer in the first place was Gone with the Wind - I read it and wanted to create a whole world out of words, too.

When your mother is made out of your dreams, anything real is bound to disappoint you.

And the very act of living is a tide; at first it seems to make no difference at all, and then one day you look down and see how much pain has eroded

it it strange, suddenly having a memory come back out of nowhere. you think you're going crazy; you wonder where this recollection has been hiding all your life. you try to push it away, because you think you've hammered out the whole timeline of your life, but then you see that one extra moment, and suddendly you are breaking apart what you though was a solid segment, and seeing it for what it is: just a string of events, shoulder to shoulder, and a gap where there is room for one more.

You want to write something as good as what you've read.