It's not the place, I think. It's the people. We'd have all been the same anywhere else.

When I was growing up, I wanted to be a house painter like my father, but I was always screwing up when I went to work with him. I had a talent for knocking over paint and painting myself into corners. I also realized fairly quickly that painting bored me.

So much good, so much evil. Just add water.

Death waits for no man - and if he does, he doesn't usually wait for very long.

Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.

Personally, I like a chocolate-covered sky. Dark, dark chocolate. People say it suits me. I do, however, try to enjoy every color I see - the whole spectrum. A billion or so flavors, none of them quite the same, and a sky to slowly suck on. It takes the edge off the stress. It helps me relax.

Of course you're real-like any thought or any story. It's real when you're in it.