A lucky chance is constant in nothing but inconstancy.
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?
When all is said and done, the weather and love are the two elements about which one can never be sure.
Some things, when they change, never do return to the way they once were. Butterflies for instance, and women who've been in love with the wrong man too often.
I wrote to find beauty and purpose, to know that love is possible and lasting and real. . . . Once I got to my desk, once I started writing, I still believed anything was possible.
There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can.
Real love, after all, was worth the price you paid, however briefly it might last.
What do you do to help us win when you're not scoring baskets?
It is almost inconceivable that citizens of that time were willing to support so bloody a war, by putting so high a price upon Union and Liberty.
Curiosity’s primal. Our senses scan our surroundings, alerting us most urgently about sudden change. Useful, that. Change can mean opportunity. It can mean danger. Finding lunch or being lunch. We’re hard-wired to notice the unexpected, then take action.
I am just at tragedy right now.