Half of seeming clever is keeping your mouth shut at the right times.
I firmly believe that we’re all good people, but sometimes it’s hard to understand how to do good.
If I seem to wander, if I seem to stray, remember that true stories seldom take the straightest way.
It might not be true, but that doesn’t mean it’s nonsense.
It was wise enough to know itself, and brave enough to be itself, and wild enough to change itself while somehow staying altogether true.
It is quite a thing. There are so many men, all endlessly trying to sweep me off my feet. And there is one of you, trying just the opposite. Making sure my feet are firm beneath me lest I fall.
I have a blog where I keep in touch with my fans. I write about things that are important to me. Sometimes on there I’ll just tell a little story about the things that happen in my everyday life. People seem to enjoy them well enough.
Generally my favorite remarks always come from my readers. I’ve had people say my books made them laugh, or cry, or that it frightened them late at night.
Do you know what it’s like to run spellcheck for six hours? It’s like a party in purgatory. A party in purgatory where all they have to drink is sugar-free Kool-aid, and the only game to play is Monopoly, and none of your friends show up.
I’ve waited a long time to show these flowers how pretty you are.
Stories only happen to people who can tell them.
It’s like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.
I also felt guilty about the three pens I’d stolen, but only for a second. And since there was no convenient way to give them back, I stole a bottle of ink before I left.
To deem us simply enemies is to lose the true flavor of our relationship. It was more like the two of us entered into a business partnership in order to more efficiently pursue our mutual interest of hating each other.
Character is half the reason we read. We’re excited because of the plot, but we care because of the characters.
Roses! I swear you men have all your romance from the same worn book. Flowers are a good thing, a sweet thing to give a lady. But it is always roses, always red, and always perfect hothouse blooms when they can come by them.
Anger can keep you warm at night, and wounded pride can spur a man to wondrous things.
And if Hollywood has taught us anything, it’s that cool props and special effects are not enough. Story comes first. Everything depends on story.
I spoke it soft, but close enough to brush against her lips. I spoke it quiet, but near enough so that the sound of it went twining through her hair. I spoke it hard and firm and dark and sweet.
Practice makes the master.