Death’s a funny thing. I used to think it was a big, sudden thing, like a huge owl that would swoop down out of the night and carry you off. I don’t anymore. I think it’s a slow thing. Like a thief who comes to your house day after day, taking a little thing here and a little thing there, and one day you walk round your house and there’s nothing there to keep you, nothing to make you want to stay. And then you lie down and shut up forever. Lots of little deaths until the last big one.

You don't pass or fail at being a person, dear.

In Hollywood, lying is something that people do like breathing.

Goodbyes are overrated.

Continuity isn't actually something that I ever worry about. You use it where you need to, and you don't use it where you don't need to.

It's a given that we exist in a world where we have to live in continuity every day; no one is immune to that, in life or romance novels. By the same token, it's not something I find terribly important.

You get what anybody gets - you get a lifetime.