“Conundrum:  A fun word to repeat over and over again when no one's listening. Actual meaning is as puzzling as the need to chant the word.”

“Death. What a brief word for the extinguishing of life. To be no more. To have days cut off and at their end. To never again..........anything.”

“Chameleonesque, hobbitish, unicorned, stompled, selfishism, and unwakeable may not be real words, but you do know what they mean.”

“The written word can make one pause and contemplate. It can make a reader sigh to dream or question a belief in considerable depth.  But all of that is nothing if those words fail to touch the heart and make one feel.”

“He made a commitment, Eena.” “And you believe this commitment,” she spoke the word detestably, “is more important than true love?” “Yes.” “No,” she stubbornly disagreed. “Yes,” Ian insisted as he put his finger to her lips, preventing her from arguing any further. “Love grows and wanes, Eena, but honor, duty, and commitment, those things are constant and stable. They define who you are.” “They define who you are?” she repeated. “You mean miserable?” “Content,” he retorted. “Lonely,” she argued. “Faithful,” he insisted, his eyes widening to emphasize the importance of the word. “Empty, regretful, and…” “Hopeful,” Ian whispered in her ear. This word caught her off guard. At present, hope was probably all any of them could cling to.”

“The hours spent forming a written work can make one obsessive, distracted, compulsive, and neurotic even, especially when it comes to those rare, precious occasions of streaming pure inspiration. To have a muse moment interrupted - to watch her scuttle back into hiding with unshared insight remaining on the tip of her tongue - is a wicked irritation. When a writer's eyes glaze over, when she stares off at nothing or appears to be memorizing the lines on a blank page, when she falls asleep at the desk... tiptoe softly. For a writer's greatest desire is to receive inspiration; her greatest nightmare, to have tossed to the wind what could have been captured in words.”

“I love words.  I crave descriptions that overwhelm my imagination with vivid detail.  I dwell on phrases that make my heart thrum.  I cherish expressions that pierce my emotions and force the tears to spill over.   In essence, I long for a writer's soul sealed in ink on the page.”