It was a Monday and they walked on a tightrope to the sun.

What do you want to kiss me for? I'm filthy.'- Liesel So am I.'- Rudy

Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day.

The words. Why did they have to exist? Without them, there wouldn't be any of this.

I'm not the messenger at all. I'm the message.

There are two magic acts I want to pull off when I write. One is creating a feeling that when you're inside a book, you believe everything you're reading even when you know it's not true. And the second is an extension of that, which is you know it's not true, you know it's not real, but you believe it anyway. And it's that believing of the story that isn't real that attracted me to writing and storytelling in general.

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