And since gin to artifice bears the same relation as tears to mascara, her attractions at once dissembled.
Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring.
[Y]outh is hardly human: it can't be, for the young never believe they will die...especially would they never believe that death comes, and often, in forms other than the natural one.
Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.
we don't belong to each other: he's an independent, and so am I.
I always write the end of everything first. I always write the last chapters of my books before I write the beginning....Then I go back to the beginning. I mean, it's always nice to know where you're going is my theory.