I tried--I swear I tried. But you didn't want to hear what I was saying, and I used that as an excuse to let it go on.

How are the eyes?' 'Oh, excellent,' he said. 'I mean, they're not in my head is the only problem.

And then I screwed up and the Colonel screwed up and Takumi screwed up and she slipped through our fingers.

No," I said. And maybe it was only because Alaska couldn't hit the brakes and I couldn't hit the accelerator.

Whenever I'm asked what advice I have for young writers, I always say that the first thing is to read, and to read a lot. The second thing is to write. And the third thing, which I think is absolutely vital, is to tell stories and listen closely to the stories you're being told.

So it’s your death suit.” “Correct. Don’t you have a death outfit?” “Yeah,” I said. “It’s a dress I bought for my fifteenth birthday party. But I don’t wear it on dates.” His eyes lit up. “We’re on a date?” he asked. I looked down, feeling bashful. “Don’t push it.

But that wasn't quite right. I called it a nine because I was saving my ten. And here it was, the great and terrible ten, slamming me again and again as I lay still and alone in my bed staring at the ceiling, the waves tossing me against the rocks then pulling me back out to sea so they could launch me again into the jagged face of the cliff, leaving me floating faceup on the water, undrowned.