There's a lot of things people think they can't do and then discover they can when they find themselves tight-wired.

Mornings belong to whatever is new; the current composition. Afternoons are for naps and letters.

there is no gain without risk, perhaps no risk without love.

You discarded most of the lies along the way but held on to the one that said life mattered.

Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark.

I don't really get philosophical, but I believe that nice people are strong and usually in my horror stories, I don't like to write about the old standard where some rotten guy gets chased by a mean spirit that gets him in the end.I'd rather write about nice people that are menaced from outside by some sort of evil power and who sort of slug it out.

She is a cat with a burning tail, an ant under a microscope, a fly about to lose its wings to the curious plucking fingers of a third-grader on a rainy day, a game for bored children with no bodies and the whole universe at their feet.