People In Small Towns, Much More Than

I Read Pretty Voraciously. If It's Good, I Don't Care What It Is.

There Are A Great Many Sins In This World, None Of Them Original.

The Line Of Gray Along The Horizon Is Brighter Now, And With The Coming Light I Feel A Certainty: That There Is, Despite Our Wild Imaginings, Only One Life. The Ghostly Others, No Matter How Real They Seem, No Matter How Badly We Need Them, Are Phantoms. The One Life We're Left With Is Sufficient To Fill And Refill Our Imperfect Hearts With Joy, And Then To Shatter Them. And It Never, Ever Lets Up.

A Lot Of My Characters In All Of My Books Have A Self-destructive Urge. They'll Do Precisely The Thing That They Know Is Wrong, Take A Perverse Delight In Doing The Wrong Thing.

What If All Everybody Needed In The World Was To Be Sure Of One Friend? What If You Were The One, And You Refused To Say Those Simple Words?