I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful.

We make patterns, we share moments.

I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And I'm sorry to leave you.

I love you. It hurts more than anything ever has, but I do. So don't you dare tell me I don't. Don't you ever say it again!

It's as if a child with a brush and too much enthusiasm has been set free with a tin of black paint inside me.

I lean back on the pillows and look at the corners of the room. When I was a kid, I always wanted to live on the ceiling - it looked so clean and uncluttered, like the top of a cake.

Moments. All gathering towards this one.

It's all right, Tessa, you can go. We love you. You can go now.''Why are you saying that?''She might need permission to die, Cal.''I don't want her to. She doesn't have my permission.

Maybe you should say goodbye, Cal.''No.''It might be important.''It might make her die.

You want some sweet and lovely things, Tessa, but be careful. Other people can't always give you what you want.

Life seemed ideal to him right then, and he was happy for the first time in a long time, and it felt like the sun was shining from his heart." - from the novel Brainjob by David Sloma.

Thank you, Jesus, for blindness that every once in a great while allows one of us to hit the target.

Beguiling voices in the world cry out for 'alternative lifestyles' for women. They maintain that some women are better suited for careers than for marriage and motherhood.

I have a goal to do my own animated film, something all my own.

I view it as one of the greatest crimes to shadow the minds of the young with these gloomy superstitions, and with fears of the unknown and the unknowable to poison all their joy in life.

We must face what we fear; that is the case of the core of the restoration of health.

I don't know. I'm really really really nervous.

Killing characters on television has become an easy short cut to cathartic emotion.

Give love, and keep blood between brothers

Men of great conversational powers almost universally practise a sort of lively sophistry and exaggeration which deceives for the moment both themselves and their auditors.