It (suicide) became a possibility like Maybe when I grow up, I will be dead. Life was a cake that looked good on the bakery shelf but turned to sawdust and salt when I ate it.

I feel like I have so many stories basting in my mind, and they come busting out when they're ready.

When the end comes, dark and hungry I'll be alone, love When the end comes, black and starving I'll say good-bye, love.-from Golden Tongue: The Poems of Steven Slaughter

That's a depressing and practical thought," Sam said. "I'd rather it was something magical.

He sounded absolutely miserable. “Are you ever going to speak to me?

Who need to read about real life when there's dragons. Come on!

I guess I make things that need energy stronger. I'm like a walking battery.