I dread the promotion part of my job. It's agony, especially compared to the private, at-home joy of writing. But being a grown-up means doing every part of the larger task.
No matter how much you love someone, you still want to have you own way.
Only through destroying myself can I discover the greater power of my spirit.
It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.
The one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same person.
My writing process isn't a very organized thing.