I'd watch her, amazed at just how much a person could accomplish fueled by tea and regret.

Plus, once he did the requisite double-take and recognized me, he’d probably beat the crap out of any guy who looked at me in all my Snow White meets Frederick’s of Hollywood glory.

I will never forget what you did to me. I will never forgive it. I will never stop mourning what you stole from me. But I realize now I can't steal it back and I'm done spending every day trying to.

It doesn't matter if you do everything right, if you dress the right way and act the right way and follow all the rules, because evil will find you anyway. Evil's resourceful that way.

But you can only go so long being angry before you learn to hate.

I didn't belong in this world anymore. It's not that I wanted to be dead, I just felt like I should be.

I think I’ll stay in pieces. I can shift them, rearrange, depending on the day, depending on what I need to be. I can change on a whim and be so many different girls and none of them has to be me.

My jealousy is a living thing. Shifting, changing, growing. Like my rage and my mother's regret.

Maybe I don't need to save her forever. Maybe I can just save her right now, in this moment, and if I can do that, maybe it will save me and maybe that can be enough.

Every normal family is one tragedy away from complete implosion.

His hands are miracles. I can watch them for hours, transforming wood into something it never dreamed of being.

Wait, seriously, what's a piss pot?

Start from your heart. The greatest journeys begin on the inside.

The American people need to know the truth. The American people need to see the truth. In a democracy, letting the people know the truth is the essence of what it means to be free.

The more rhymethere isin poetry the more dangerof its tricking the writer into something other than the urge in the beginning.

From my close observation of writers... they fall into two groups: 1) those who bleed copiously and visibly at any bad review, and 2) those who bleed copiously and secretly at any bad review.

If I can get you to laugh with me, you like me better, which makes you open to my ideas

I'm what I am and I'm what I'm not. And I'm sure happy with what I've got. I live to love and laugh a lot. And that's all I need.

The difference between a dreamer and a visionary is that a dreamer has his eyes closed and a visionary has his eyes open

I hold it to be a proof of great prudence for men to abstain from threats and insulting words toward anyone, for neither diminishes the strength of the enemy.

While the fates permit, live happily; life speeds on with hurried step, and with winged days the wheel of the headlong year is turned.