She's been conned, ruined, left for dead, and she's not going to forgive any of it. She will soldier on, if only out of spite.

There are so many of us, so many girls. The world wants us for our wombs or our bodies, or it doesn't want us at all.

We'll squeeze every second that we can from our lives, because we're young, and we have plenty of years to grow. We'll grow until we're braver. We'll grow until our bones ache and our skin wrinkles and our hair goes white, and until our hearts decide, at last, that it's time to stop.

I think she's brave. I think that nobody has ever believed what she could be capable of. All her life, nobody was listening.

I used to have only one name; it used to mean something.

I liked just being with you. I liked the way you breathed when you were asleep. I liked when you took the champagne glass from my hand. I liked how your fingers were always too long for your gloves.

The only characters I ever don't like are ones that leave no impression on me. And I don't write characters that leave no impression on me.