Fiction is the lie that tells the truth, after all.

It's just I might get distracted, and I get lost kind of easily, and sometimes I have really bad days...when, you know, I just want to hide or scream or bleed or something, and...all that...

Pain shared, my brother, is pain not doubled but halved. No man is an island

I wanted to be an author as far back as I can remember, mixed with occasional bouts of wanting to be a werewolf when I grew up. But mostly, when I daydreamed, it was about being an author.

None of this is truly happening," he said to Shadow. He sounded miserable. "It's all in your head. Best not to think of it.

Daisy looked up at him with the kind of expression that Jesus might have given someone who had just explained that he was probably allergic to bread and fishes, so could He possibly do him a quick chicken salad.

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.