Any other iron on you?” he asked impatiently.“Just my tongue stud.”His look was a mixture of curiosity and horror.“I’m kidding, you idiot. Let’s go.

And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.

I get that you're scared and that you've been hurt. But doing what is easy and safe is no way to live, and a life without passion and love is so far beneath what you deserve.

My life is a black hole of boredom and despair." "So basically you've been doing homework." "Like I said, black hole.

...sometimes I get tired. Sometimes I get bored. And sometimes all I want, more than anything else in the world, is to go on a freaking date.

I'm fine." It's a lie. I am not fine. My head is a symphony of pain, a sadistic master maestro conducting an opus of excruciating, devastating perfecting.

Streams of melting snow.

Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Seriously, did I look like some sort of pyscho assassin? Maybe it was the pink sneakers. Or the heart earrings?

She stared at him in that vapid, intoxicated way employed only by women under a vamp's control. Or the way I sometimes got when faced with cupcakes. Mmm. Cupcakes.

Good luck trying to force Evie to do anything else once she has made up her mind. She is the definition of a stubborn, headstrong teenager.” “And you love me for it.” “I do.

What do you think? Does this face make me look fat?

In poetry we pare down our thoughts into their most graceful shapes, like minimalist sculptures.

If you've never experienced something and don't know how to write about it, then make it a fantasy book. It gives you a lot of freedom.

It takes time to be a success.

I seek to humble myself, so I won't attract the harsh experiences that will.

As long as you have the acting chops and the desire to get inside a character, you can play anything.

I've had various experiences where I've been called by Hollywood studios to look at a script or comment on various scientific ideas that they're trying to inject into a story.

I don't get my inspiration from books or a painting. I get it from the women I meet.

I call prodigy all that is invented, all that begins to exist from the second it is conceived, it is the process not the results, the principle and not the fruits.

Exercise and writing are so therapeutic to me. I try to write every day and I make it a huge priority to find time to work out, even if that means taking a spin class at 7am before work.

But if your boyfriend, out of nowhere and with no advance warning whatsoever, dumps you for no apparent reason, is it really about you? Or is it all him?