Writing is one of the few careers for which you essentially train yourself, the other two major ones being juggling and pickpocketing.

She couldn't take her eyes off the boxers. Mostly, she had a view of the back, but he turned halfway when he looked over. She commanded herself not to look at the front flap, which, of course, was exactly what she honed in on. He spit and put his mouth under the tap to get some water. All while just wearing underwear. All while she just stared at the crucial spot of the Action Pants.

She firmly held the theory that everyone gets at least one very stupid superpower.

Oh, the ongoing love affair between hair and mouths. Hair always goes for the mouth. The mouth opens, and hair says, "I'm going in! I'm going in!" like a manic cave diver.

Although it was very cold, he wore no coat. I think some English people think coats are for the weak.

There is no normal. I've never met a normal person. The concept is flawed. It implies that there is only one way people are supposed to be, and that can't possible be true. Human experience is far too varied.

My rule is: the second you find yourself doing something you hate, quit doing it.