Then-then I’m not going to die? Well, then-crap!-what am I doing here, Anyway?

Perhaps she had learned already those lessons in life that make smiling difficult.

Kate felt very offended. ‘I am not an elf,’ she insisted. ‘I’m an Englishwoman!

You’ve caught a goblin, my dear, all for your very own.

Forks are absurd, he scoffed. They insult your food. They make it think you’re killing it twice.

It’s a prison. It’s twenty-four-hour-a-day life in a jail cell. We never get out, not even for one second. All we can do, all day long, is look for ways to survive. Nobody needs to teach us tricks. We brainstorm our own tricks all day long. When real anorexics compare notes, we’ve already figured out all the same tricks – and each one of us did it on our own.

That’s exactly how I want you to feel. When you finish this book, I want you to be filled with curiosity. I want you to say, “I have to find out what happens next,” and then I want you to head to your nearest library or bookstore to pick up a copy of Wuthering Heights.

Don’t fret. We’ll just have to find something else you’re good at besides killing people.

Being a writer means crying over the sad parts, even though you already know it’s going to be okay.

Forks are absurd, he scoffed. They insult your food. They make it think you're killing it twice.