We don't need heroes so much as recognizing ourselves as heroes.

I love to write. I love it. I mean there's nothin in the world I like better, and that includes sex, probably because I'm so very bad at it.

Every time you work on a project, it's a little vacation from the project you're working on the other 23 hours. That's the thing - it replenishes you to do something else.

If I kill you, you'll be awake, you'll be facing me, and you'll be armed.

Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead.

Are you all right?" "Oh my god! I phased!" "Are you all right?" "Are you?" "It was strange." "I can't believe I phased just then! That's never...it was totally your fault." "I like to think so, yes." "Tee hee.

Those of us who write spend our entire lives in an endless English class.