How Weird That Must Be, To Stay

So," She Went On, "it Got Me Thinking About What Cost Beauty. Or For That Matter, What Cost Anything? Would You Trade Love For Beauty? Or Happiness For Beauty? Could A Gorgeous Person With A Mean Streak Be A Worthy Trade? And If You Did Make The Trade, Decide You'd Take That Beautiful Swan And Hope It Wouldn't Turn On You, What Would You Do If It Did?

I Don't Talk About My Books While I'm Writing Them: Not Even My Husband Knows What A Novel's About Until It's Done.

From Up Above, In A Plane Passing Over, You’d Just See One Little Light In All This Dark, With No Idea Of The Lives That Were Being Lived Within It, And In The House Beside, And Beside That One. So Much Happening In The World, Night And Day, Hour By Hour. It Was No Wonder We Were Meant To Sleep, If Only To Check Out Of It For A Little While.

In A Way, I Was Almost Happy To See Her. The Worst Part Of Me, Out In The Flesh. Blinking Back At Me In The Dim Light, Daring Me To Call Her A Name Other Than My Own.

But You Could Also Look At It The Other Way. Like You’re Saying No Matter How Bad Things Are For You, I Can Still Relate.