Never let your fiend off his leash unless there's lots of room to run (and no people around).

She couldn't tell where his pupils ended and the irises began; looking into those eyes was like looking into a well where children had drowned.

Why is it suddenly uncool to spell? That's all I want to know.

Elizabeth Anne Taylor April 25, 1974 - April 25, 2004 Our Sweetheart, Only resting

You don't scare me, Cadence Jones. I've lived with crazy, I've ridden with crazy, I've vacationed with crazy, I've visited crazy in various hospitals, I've sat in on therapy sessions with crazy. Frankly, I think women who don't have major emotional disorders are really very dull.

All writers are crazy. So never mind what the editors and your family and your critique group tells you. Submit your manuscripts and keep submitting until you get an offer. Then you can be crazy, with a paycheck.

It never failed—I'd buy a new journal, write like a madwoman for ten pages, then lose total interest in the process. Three months later, I'd start the whole process all over again. I think I just liked buying new notebooks.