Why is everything always my decision?" I asked. Because you will not tolerate anything else." Oh, I remembered now. "Great", I whispered. - Anita to Jean-Claude

I tried to picture a young, insecure Edward and couldn't, but it was nice to know that once he'd been a boy. Sometimes it felt like Edward had sprung full grown from the head of some violent deity,like a vicious version of Athena.

Can the sarcasm,' he said. 'Please, I always use fresh sarcasm, never canned.

Should I eat first or accuse the Master of the City of murder? Choices, choices. -Anita

I try not to worry about rewriting books that worked well the first time. I'm too busy writing new books to worry about things that are already in print

You cannot die of grief, though it feels as if you can. A heart does not actually break, though sometimes your chest aches as if it is breaking. Grief dims with time. It is the way of things. There comes a day when you smile again, and you feel like a traitor. How dare I feel happy. How dare I be glad in a world where my father is no more. And then you cry fresh tears, because you do not miss him as much as you once did, and giving up your grief is another kind of death.

You can't save everybody. In fact, there are days when I think you can't save anyone. Each person has to save himself first, then you can move in and help. I have found this philosophy does not work during a gun battle, or a knife fight either. Outside of that it works just fine.