Sometimes you dont even want to think aout what people are doing with their groceries.

As I rolled over, stretching out, my only thought was to go back to the dream I'd been having, which I couldn't remember, other than that it had been good, in that distant, hopeful way unreal things can be.

Accepting all the good and bad about someone. It's a great thing to aspire to. The hard part is actually doing it.

It sounded stupid, but of course everything does when you're just getting the bare bones facts, only the basics.

People don't change. If anything, you get more set in your ways as you get older, not less

I think I'm too lazy a writer to do something like historical fiction. You have to do so much research. I just write what I know.

I'd been running for years: there was nothing scarier, to me, than to just be still with someone. And yet, there on that dark road, going home, I was.