Rogerson," I asked him sweetly as we sat watching a video in the pool house, "where would I find the pelagic zone?""In the open sea," he said. "Now shut up and eat your Junior Mints.

I half-expect to check out, but I'm really there for it. It's not like at the dance, angry and forced. It's terrible in its gentleness and he's just wasting it on me.

I cannot help but wonder if any parents ever actually schedule in adolescent drama on their day planners. Looks like a slow week, Sarah. I guess I can pencil in your eating disorder.

I mean, he was something that happened to me, you know? But before he was this minor figure in the drama of my life he was - you know, the central figure in the drama of his own life.

The theater is a communal event, like church. The playwright constructs a mass to be performed for a lot of people. She writes a prayer, which is really just the longings of one heart.

No, she's been killing me with kindness." She pointed her finger in his face. "There's a difference, and if you didn't have her on a pedestal, you could tell the difference.

Life on the street is simple. You eat. You don’t eat. You sleep. You don’t sleep. You’re alive. You’re dead. It’s that simple!" - excerpt from: freefalling

For me, writing isn't about money and fame. It's about passion, an art form that I want to share with the world, expand the horizons to new worlds, new experiences, and new adventures.

Only half a page left now. Shall I fill it with 'I love you, I love you'-- like father's page of cats on the mat? No. Even a broken heart doesn't warrant a waste of good paper.

Don’t ever touch her again,” Hayden growled.Kurt looked up, eyes wide. “Are you threatening me— over her? I’m like your brother, Hayden!” “Not anymore.

Oliver knocked on the door, trying to keep his fear in check. Dominic didn't answer. Oliver looked around the porch for a hidden key, frantically searching under the welcome mat, but to no avail.

The embrace at the airport and stolen glances of Poe wasn't enough for him. Oliver needed to be closer to her again--emotionally and physically. His stomach clenched. Why couldn't Poe be his?

Like the waters of the river, like the motorists on the highway, and like the yellow trains streaking down the Santa Fe tracks, drama, in the shape of exceptional happenings, had never stopped there.

Damn it! Are you so stupid you don't know what I'm going to do to you?"Her eyes bore into his without flinching. "Are you so stupid you haven't figured out yet that it doesn't matter?

When you read a novel, it seems that everything is clear, trite and understandable. But when you yourself fall in love, you understand that nobody knows anything and everyone must decide for themselves.