Why doesn't Prin go and get her own goddamn blistering bloody shitty jelly doughnuts?

I've never been able to force a novel. I always had the sense something being given to me. You can't sit around and wait until inspiration strikes, but neither can you force into being something that isn't there.

Well, you're young. You know a lot you won't know later on.

The dead don't bear a grudge nor seek a blessing. The dead don't rest uneasy. Only the living.

Why doesn't Prin go and get her own goddamn blistering bloody shitty jelly doughnuts?

Animals are less alone with roaring than we are with all these words.

In some families, please is described as the magic word. In our house, however, it was sorry.