I was not scared of anything, when I read my book.

I remember making that vow, the one not to forget. Not to remember what happened, but to remember who I was and how I felt.

The only people I ever get irritated with are the ones who announce, using my Twitter handle, that they are no longer following me and why.

This is how you can tell a real photographer: mostly, a real photographer does not say 'I wish I had my camera on me right now'. Instead a real photographer pulls out her camera and takes the photograph.

You know that I love you." And despite herself, Coraline nodded. It was true. The other mother loved her. But she loved Coraline as a miser loves money, or a dragon loves its gold. In the other mother's button eyes, Coraline knew that she was a possession, nothing more. A tolerated pet, whose behavior was no longer amusing.

We build a shell around it, like an oyster dealing with a painful particle of grit, coating it with smooth pearl layers in order to cope. This is how we walk and talk and function , day in, day out. Immune to others’ pain and loss.

Here, far from our homes, we will be forgotten by our gods.