I love you!" he shouted, his eyes glowing laser green.
"I love you, okay? I'm not some hopeless retard you pull along behind you because you feel sorry for him! I love you and I'm going to prove it!

Every kid's afraid of that right? That someday you'll be left in a corner, like a toy, staring with button eyes and a broken heart.

Fury ignited behind my breastbone , a hot glow like coals blooming into something sharp and dangerous. It was the same old crap- someone thinking they can push you around because you're young, because you're helpless. You had to just sit there and take it because you were under a certain number , because you weren't a real person yet; you could be picked up and dropped like a toy, left behind or thrown away...

You can only shove shit under your bed for so long before it starts moving around and wanting to get out. You can only cope for so long before everything breaks.

Discipline allows magic. To be a writer is to be the very best of assassins. You do not sit down and write every day to force the Muse to show up. You get into the habit of writing every day so that when she shows up, you have the maximum chance of catching her, bashing her on the head, and squeezing every last drop out of that bitch.

I was always holding onto people, and they were always leaving.