I was dressed up as a witch for Halloween, and wanted to write a story about my black cat before I went out trick-or-treating. I think it went out with the trash the next day.

When considering a man's motives, remember you must not measure his wheat with your bushel. He may not be using the same standard at all.

Locked into loneliness were we two and looking at one another every evening we each saw the one we blamed for it.

There is a dead spot in the night, that coldest, blackest time when the world has forgotten evening and dawn is not yet a promise. A time when it is far too early to arise, but so late that going to bed makes small sense.

To be honest, I don't think of any of my characters as minor characters - they're all the main characters in a story that I don't necessarily get to tell.

It's too late to apologize for. I have already forgiven you.

If I had a dog that was sick as often as you are, I'd put it down," he observed kindly.