Sometimes there's a sort of tear in the veil, and there are people who live in more than one dimension.

The dizzy rapture of starving. The power of needing nothing. By force of will I make myself the impossible sprite who lives on air, on water, on purity.

I like nudging readers into a slightly different perspective, but in a sly way - I want to be the writer who slips a stiletto in and out, to make so swift and clean a cut, it's not until a chapter ends that the reader looks down and sees she's bleeding and asks what happened.

Writing is how I stay sane. It's completely necessary.

There aren't many people in our history who have so completely surrendered themselves to a mission that they would give up their lives for it.

Scars are stories, history written on the body

I can't work out much about myself or what I see in the world around me unless I do it through writing.