oh. she heard it too-no waters coursing, canyon empty, sun soundless- and the beast your life nowhere hiding (p. 103)

...gripping the rim of the sink you claw your way to stand and cling there, quaking with will, on heron legs, and still the hot muck pours out of you. (p. 27)

My prayer is that when I die, all of hell rejoices that I am out of the fight.

We humans have lost the wisdom of genuinely resting and relaxing. We worry too much. We don't allow our bodies to heal, and we don't allow our minds and hearts to heal.

History is, indeed, an argument without end.

As a Christian, you ought to be less concerned about where God is bringing you out from, rather, focus on where He's taking you to.

I don't know who Maxime thinks she's kidding. If Hagrid's half-giant, she definitely is. Big bones... the only thing that's got bigger bones than her is a dinosaur.

“I often think,” said she, “that there is nothing so bad as parting with one's friends. One seems so forlorn without them.”

It's rather hard to decide just when people are grown up.

I really just compete against myself. I look at my previous material and try to surpass what I've done.

I started to write in 2001. I wrote the books for the fun of it. It was an old idea I had had since the nineties.

Chain-mail isn't much defence against an arrow. It certainly isn't when the arrow is being aimed between your eyes.