They surrounded him here, but beyond, flames licked the cabins, the incendiary glow striking a similar spark inside him from the injustice they’d faced tonight.

Darkness lingered in those blue eyes, like ghosts haunted him despite only the two of them standing in this cabin.

Sierra couldn’t afford complications, not in her position, but the way he flirted with her and teased had amped her touch hunger to a deafening roar.

Writing feels safer somehow. I can catch myself before I say the wrong thing.

People in high school either feel like they're with the cool kids in a clique, or they're isolated - there's no in-between.

I didn't say that the Jews are inferior. I didn't even maintain they are a race. I merely saw that the mixture of different cultures didn't work.

A rational army would run away.

It is my fondest desire to bust a host of caps into multitudes of fleshy personages.

I remember the day I started school; my mother's tears as I skipped away; birthdays with candles on the cake, too soon too many abandoned for the mess they made.

From an early age I was aware of what America meant, and how the Marines at Camp Pendleton were ready to defend us at a moment's notice. I also remember what fabulous bodies those troops had.

Labor is no disgrace.

We learn to treasure words that people call us; we learn to live by words that hurt. We cannot toss them aside, so in time they become our dignity.

Give weather reports. It helps the reality of a scene if foghorns are blowing or kites are in the sky on a windy afternoon or the day's so hot wallpaper is peeling off the walls.