When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.

Without haters, you can't see the level of your progress, that shows you that haters are necessary evil.

She was like the sun, She knew her place in the world - She would shine again regardless of all the storms and changeable weather She wouldn't adjust her purpose for things that pass.

Always remember that you were once alone, and the crowd you see in your life today are just as unecessary as when you were alone.

Writing therapy is my form of healing. Try and detach yourself from painful memories by infusing characters and then stepping back.

Well, I always know what I want. And when you know what you want--you go toward it. Sometimes you go very fast, and sometimes only an inch a year. Perhaps you feel happier when you go fast. I don't know. I've forgotten the difference long ago, because it really doesn't matter, so long as you move.