What happens if anger takes you over, Tessa? Who will you be then? What will be left of you?

I wish I had a boyfriend. I wish he lived in the wardrobe on a coat hanger. Whenever I wanted, I could get him out and he'd look at me the way boys do in films, as if I'm beautiful.

I want to die in my own way. It's my illness, my death, my choice. This is what saying yes means.

It was strange how words meant something when they came out of your mouth. Inside your head they were safe and silent, but once they were outside, people grabbed hold of them.

Every seven years our bodies change, every cell. Every seven years, we disappear.

Then she says, ‘I love you.’ Like three drops of blood falling onto snow.

We make patterns, we share moments.

All I know is that I have two choices – stay wrapped in blankets and get on with dying, or get the list back together and get on with living.

I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And I'm sorry to leave you.

It's all right, Tessa, you can go. We love you. You can go now.' 'Why are you saying that?' 'She might need permission to die, Cal.' 'I don't want her to. She doesn't have my permission.

Bye, Tess. haunt me if you like. I don't mind.

The heart is a place with worm holes made by feelings you aren't supposed to have but do.

Condi Rice talks tough but she cannot be tough herself.

The absence of temptation is the absence of virtue.

God is not a respecter of persons but a respecter of principles that are in his word.

I got all the Sarah Palin I need for one lifetime.

Failure is much easier to handle if you just think of it as feedback to guide your next effort.

I never desired to really go to Hollywood and make films, and purely because I want my entire control, which I'm used to having.

Habitat for wildlife is continually shrinking - I can at least provide a way station.

Nurses quietly go about their work in a noble profession, uncelebrated soldiers toiling through the days and nights in service to the sick, the injured and the dying.

What is next to ecstasy? Pain. What is next to pain? Nothingness. What is next to nothingness? Hell.