It's a good rule of thumb, it seems to me: if you're not allowed to see where something comes from, don't put it in your mouth.

Tomorrow was over the horizon, and would take an entire day to reach.

Fiction works when it makes a reader feel something strongly.

I wanted to tell her everything, maybe if I'd been able to, we could have lived differently, maybe I'd be there with you now instead of here. Maybe... if I'd said, 'I'm so afraid of losing something I love that I refuse to love anything,' maybe that would have made the impossible possible. Maybe, but I couldn't do it, I had buried too much too deeply inside me. And here I am, instead of there.

Why didn't he say goodbye? I gave myself a bruise. Why didn't he say 'I love you'?

She said, 'Believe it or not, I used to be idealistic.' I asked her what 'idealistic' meant. 'It means you live by what you think is right.' 'You don't do that anymore?' 'There are questions I don't ask anymore.

Writers now are putting total faith in designers at Apple and Amazon. It's almost like a race-car driver having no input into how cars are designed.