People talk about me as masculine. Because of the way I walk and talk and crank out pull-ups and smell like bacon.

I want to build as many worlds as possible - each a version of ours with a crack running through it - and not be anchored to any of them.

Writing is an act of empathy. You are occupying and understanding a point of view that might be alien to your own--and work is often the keyhole through which you peer.

You can't teach talent, but you can teach people how to read strenuously and mimic the moves of rock-star writers so that they eventually accumulate a toolbox of skills.

I wanted it to be as multi-windowed as possible, so that the reader felt like they were seeing all the different ways in to a big haunted house.

I grew up on genre - on Westerns, spy thrillers, sci-fi, fantasy novels, horror novels. Especially horror novels.

I grew up with guns. For my 16th birthday, in fact, I received a .357 instead of a car. But there was nothing playful about them; they were tools.

My voice dropped when I was 14. And when I was 14, I might have weighed 75 pounds. So you can imagine how strange that must have been: like James Earl Jones speaking through a sock puppet.

Lycans are human.

Fight back. Bite back.

They’re always wrong in the movies.

Sometimes you can't speak, not because others won't let you, but because you are afraid of what you'll say.

Hell is a place reserved for people who want their enemies to rot in Hell for sinning against them. Heaven is a place of amnesty

Americans live not by facts, but by a lengthy list of myths.

The future belongs to those who prepare for it today.

Ranger locked eyes with me. "Please," he said. Tank and Hal were goggle-eyed. They weren't used to "please." I wasn't used to it either. But I liked it. Okay," I said. "Be careful. He's insane.

I know I've abandoned the Amish lifestyle, but I still keep a lot of those beliefs ... I know I've stepped outside the boundaries a lot of times, but I still try to remember what's important to me.

I started to write about science and medicine at the Washington Post, in the early days of the AIDS epidemic.

You can crush the flowers, but you can't stop the spring.

Hold on...Hold on to yourself. This is going to hurt like hell.

It's never crowded along the extra mile.