I am hunted by humans.

I only know that all of those people would have sensed me that night, excluding the youngest of the children. I was the suggestion. I was the advice, my imagined feet walking into the kitchen and down the corridor.

You’re a human, you should understand self-obsession.

Failure has been my best friend as a writer. It tests you, to see if you have what it takes to see it through.

All my friends seem to be smart arses. Don't ask me why. Like many things, it is what it is.

A halo surrounded the grim reaper nun, Sister Maria. (By the way-I like this human idea of the grim reaper. I like the scythe. It amuses me.)

...to swear with a ferocity that can only be described as a talent.