don't fly too close to the sun, " Tess Calls. "you'll burn the tips of your wings. Stay right with me. i'll keep you safe.

And of course, there is always the F for failure. F for failing falling festering failure. F for fault. F for forgotten.

I became addicted to the guilt. The strange thrill of doing something so morbid, so off-color, and so completely wrong.

She let out a strangled laugh. “Yeah, that’s how it works. I just woke up one morning and was like, ‘gee, I want to screw Kyler.’ Seriously, you have no clue.

She knows that feeling too. Of believing that each time someone says her name, it’s to tell her that something bad has happened.

All the arguing in the world won't change the mind of the Umpire.

October proved a riot a riot to the senses and climaxed those giddy last weeks before Halloween.

My novels aren't really generated by a single conceptual spark; it's more a process of many different elements that come together unexpectedly over a long period of time.

Whether it's just the career path of doing independent music, being an artist, however you want to pigeon-hole it, it creates a certain type of character.

War doesn't negate decency. It demands it, even more than in times of peace.

I would never put my songs in a commercial.

Habits and customs are a convenience devised for the support of timid natures who dare not allow their souls free play.

Use words that soak up life.