Love Is A Dangerous Angel.

Maybe He Was Real. Maybe I'd Made Him Up. Either Way, He Didn't Think I Needed Him Anymore. Maybe He Was Right.

We No Longer Believe In Fairy Tales. But We Will Learn To Believe In Monsters

Writing Is Literally Transformative. When We Read, We Are Changed. When We Write, We Are Changed. It's Neurological. To Me, This Is A Kind Of Magic.

Weetzie Wished She Could Shake Blue Glitter Around All Of Them - Keeping Them Sparkling And Safe.

She Went Out In The City With Its Lights Like A Radioactive Phosphorescence, Wandered Through Galleries Where The High-priced Art On The Walls Was The Same As The Graffiti Scrawled Outside By Taggers Who Were Arrested Or Killed For It, Went To Parties In Hotel Rooms Where White-skinned, Lingerie-clad Rock Stars Had Been Staying The Night Their Husbands Shot Themselves In The Head, Listened To Music In Nightclubs Where Stunning Boyish Actors Had Od'd On The Pavement.