One of the failures of cellular communication is that tiredness often comes across as sadness.

I am stronger than words and I am bigger than the box I'm in, and then I see her in the crowd and I fall apart -I am listening and I am listening because what I'm playing isn't something I'm thinking about, it's something I'm feeling all over.

I mean, I think I am basically a cool girl, but I am also a pain in the ass.

Because I withered under the glare of an actual invitation, I was a firm believer in preventive prevarication--in other words, lying early in order to free myself later on.

Better to end this dream before it becomes a nightmare.

It's the great male fantasy-all it takes is one dance to know that she's the one. All it takes is the sound of her song from the tower, or a look at her sleeping face. And right away you know-this is the girl in your head, sleeping or dancing or singing in front of you. Yes, girls want princes, but boys want their princesses just as much.

No one would want to read a book in which I explain the science of cloning because it would be very dull and it would also make no sense.