"You cut yourself off from all sorts of experiences because you tell yourself you are 'not that sort of person'" "But, I’m not." "How do you know? You’ve done nothing, been nowhere. How do you have the faintest idea what kind of person you are?"

She went kind of pink and laughed, the kind of laugh you do when you know yo shouldn't be laughing. The kind of laugh that spoke of a conspiracy.

All that counts is the truth. Without it you're basically just juggling people's daft ideas.

When you put someone down all the time, eventually they stop listening to the sensible stuff.

I see all this talent, all this...this energy and brightness and...potential. Yes. Potential. And I cannot for the life of me see how you can be content to live this tiny life. This life that will take place almost entirely within a five mile radius and contain nobody who will ever surprise you or push you or show you things that will leave your head spinning and unable to sleep at night.

Try to write at least 500 words a day. You may ditch 499 of them tomorrow, but you will still be moving forward.

Know that you hold my heart, my hopes, in your hands.