Sometimes words come out of me and I don't know where they come from or why. They're like falling stars tumbling through the universe; bright, burning things that can't be stopped.
Sometimes I can see colour without opening my eyes. I saw that Billy's heart was no colour and every colour. Like water or diamonds or crystals, it's pure and reflects the light.
Books are many things: lullabies for the weary, ointment for the wounded, armour for the fearful and nests for those in need of a home.
You might think what I tell you next is all a dream, or that I've imagined it. I can't help it if that's what you think, but I swear it's true. Sometimes the truest things are the hardest to believe.
I know that sentence is long and has too many joining words in it but sometimes, when I'm angry, words burst out of me like a shout, or, if I'm sad, they spill out of me like tears, and if I'm happy my words are like a song. If that happens it's one of my rules not to change them because they're coming out of my heart and not my head, and that's the way they're meant to be.
I didn't know what to say when someone's given you a small free kiss in the dark.
Then I kissed Max because I loved him, and everyone I had ever loved before had gone away and I had never kissed them goodbye
When the doors closed behind me I felt like a bird had got inside my chest and was beating its wings trying to get loose, and it wasn't leaving much room for me to breathe.
Running away was easy; not knowing what to do next was the hard part.
I wasn't going to let things happen to me any more. I was going to make them happen.
I don't make promises in case I can't keep them. Sometimes you can't help it; things stop you.
