The Sky Is Already Purple;

She Knows Where She's Going, And What She Has To Do. She Could, After All, Find Her Way To Route 95 South Blindfolded. She Could Do It In The Dark, In Fair Weather Or Foul; She Can Do It Even When It Seems She Will Run Out Of Gas. It Doesn't Matter What People Tell You. It Doesn't Matter What They Might Say. Sometimes You Have To Leave Home. Sometimes, Running Away Means You're Headed In The Exact Right Direction.

I Never Even Believed In Happiness. I Didn't Think It Existed. Now Look At Me. I'm Ready To Believe In Just About Anything.

I Feel More Influenced In My Own Work By Dreams Than I Do By Other Writers' Works In A Way. Or By Popular Culture, Movies - What Else Is There To Write About Than Love And Loss?

What Men Yearn For They Often Destroy.

Always Keep Mint On Your Windowsill In August, To Ensure That Buzzing Flies Will Stay Outside, Where They Belong. Don't Think The Summer Is Over, Even When Roses Droop And Turn Brown And The Stars Shift Position In The Sky. Never Presume August Is A Safe Or Reliable Time Of The Year.