The world is made of more than particles. It’s made of things you can’t hold in your hand, like fear, love, loss, hope, truth.
It’s a lot easier to be crazy or mad than to just get on with living.
How about we meet at midnight tomorrow and try this. I close my eyes, believe in you, and there you’ll be.
There was something in the moonlight tonight. It was stroking the stonework and spires, leaning into cracks between the cobblestones, caressing the stained-glass windows. She felt her heart lift with magic.
Distance is the journey. Displacement is the result.
When she got back from taking Cassie to school Fancy knew that she ought to be working on her wilderness romance. She had promised thirty thousand words to her editor by tomorrow, and she had only written eleven. Specific
Having read several prize-winning novels, Fancy was confident that she now knew the recipe: 1. Write a simple narrative. 2. Make a long list. 3. Scatter the contents of your list throughout your narrative.
Who knows if all our brains are inventing the same thing? I mean, how do we know that the thing YOUR eyes see and call “red” is the same thing that I call “red”?
You’ve loved with intensity and passion, and have learned to hide your heartache, learned to press your handkerchief back into your pocket and pretend that you are okay.
Well, first you have to be very, very funny. I have realized that it is essential for a boy to be funny. Otherwise, what is the point in a boy?