Life is lived on the inside. What's outside doesn't matter.

More than this, I believe that the only lastingly important form of writing is writing for children. It is writing that is carried in the reader's heart for a lifetime; it is writing that speaks to the future.

There's fire in my fingers. I burn everything I touch.

I thought about how stupid it is, that all of us are born destined to desire somebody else, though desire brings with it such disappointment and pain. Humankind's history must be scored bloody with heartbreak. This hankering for affection is a blight upon us.

I want my life to be mystifying," she declared, although she didn't know what she meant.

Words on the page are never prisoners of the page

How does one craft happiness out of something as important, as complicated, as unrepeatable and as easily damaged as life?