I Remember Liking To Write Stories Pretty

It Was As If, Before She`d Met Him, Her Blood Had Circulated Grayly Around Her Body, And Now Ir Was All Oxygenated And Red. She Was Petrified Of Becoming The Half-alive Person She`d Been Before.

Emotions, In My Experience Aren't Covered By Single Words. I Don't Believe In "sadness," "joy," Or "regret." I'd Like To Have At My Disposal Complicated Hybrid Emotions, Germanic Traincar Constructions Like, Say, "the Happiness That Attends Disaster." Or: "the Disappointment Of Sleeping With One's Fantasy." ... I'd Like To Have A Word For "the Sadness Inspired By Failing Restaurants" As Well As For "the Excitement Of Getting A Room With A Minibar." I've Never Had The Right Words To Describe My Life.

When You Stood Between Somebody You Loved And Death, It Was Hard To Be Awake And It Was Hard To Sleep.

There's A Kind Of Acting That Goes On In My Head When I'm Writing A Character Where I Put Myself In Their Place.

You Can Tell When Something's Not Moving Forward Anymore. When The Doubts You Have About It Don't Go Away.