I was a fine arts major in college, and a painter for many years. And I found that, like writing, art is very similar.

I wanted to find a place to hide from all of it, where the nightmares and the rivers and reality couldn't find me. For me, that place was always inside a book.

It’s funny how the good things are all tied up with the bad. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which is which. But either way, you end up taking your sugar with your salt and your kicks with your kisses.

There were two kinds of people in our town. The stupid, and the stuck.

I only assumed those dresses were costumes, based on the garish nature of the plumage.

Are you insinuatin' that my daughter is a liar?" "Oh, no, not at all. I'm saying your daughter is a liar. Surely you can appreciate the difference.

I'll drive like my grandma. I'll drive like your grandma." "You wouldn't say that if you knew my gramma.