Self-pitying, self-righteous, self-important, all the selfs except self-confident, the quality that she always needed the most.

You can live your whole life not realizing that what you're looking for is right in front of you.

This is where it all begins. Everything starts here, today.

No, friends were like clothes: fine while they lasted but eventually they wore thin or you grew out of them.

The true writer, the born writer, will scribble words on scraps of litter, the back of a bus tickets, on the wall of a cell.

Dexter, I love you so much. So, so much, and I probably always will. I just don't like you anymore. I'm sorry.

Call me sentimental, but there's no-one in the world that I'd like to see get dysentery more than you

You're gorgeous, you old hag, and if I could give you just one gift ever for the rest of your life it would be this. Confidence. It would be the gift of confidence. Either that or a scented candle

A moment passed, perhaps half a second when their faces said what they felt, and then Emma was smiling, laughing, her arms around his neck.

If you're my friend I should be able to talk to you but I can't, and if I can't talk to you, well, what is the point of you? Of us?

Maybe we've grown out of each other.

It's a hard life if you don't weaken.

Poetry is –raw feelings as sunny summer, fiery turmoil as vibrant autumn, daunting revelation as stormy winter, intrepid hope as blooming spring.

I'm with him, and he's with me, and that's the way it's meant to eternally be.

Sometimes the best way to uncover a new goal or dream is to step back, make space, and allow what's next to find you.

For my own good. Anytime anyone had ever used those words to me, they hadn't had the slightest clue what ‘my own good’ truly was

Your poems will happen when no one is there.

It certainly must have been a relief for women of the country to realize that one could be a woman and a lady and yet be thoroughly political.

I had not to this time subsisted, but that I was supported by your frequent courtesies and favours.

In all things I would have the island of a man inviolate. Let us sit apart as the gods, talking from peak to peak all round Olympus. No degree of affection need invade this religion.

Warriors! and where are warriors found, If not on martial Britain's ground? And who, when waked with note of fire, Love more than they the British lyre?