You spend so much time wondering who you are, don't you think? You flounder about, searching for your identity, when most of the time it is plain as the nose on your face. You struggle with questions of purpose and need, and forget that the answers are found mostly inside yourselves.

Hurt leads to bitterness, bitterness to anger, travel too far that road and the way is lost.

I might add that you change as a person as you grow older, so you change as a writer, too.

What you write chooses you.

We should not be less than what we are.

Might have, could have, may have, should have—the haves and have nots reduced to pointless possibilities.

If you do not love what you do, if you are not appropriately grateful for the chance to create something magical each time you sit down at the computer or with a pencil and paper in hand, somewhere along the way your writing will betray you.