“the real reason I had wanted to grow up, the main reason I had been willing to even consider becoming an adult, was so I could have as many pets as I wanted.”

Writing is like anything – baseball playing, piano playing, sewing, hammering nails. The more you work on it, the better you get. But it seems to take a longer time to get better at writing than hammering nails.

My own hobbies are rather quiet. I like to read and do needlework, and I love animals.

The people you don’t know turn out to be exactly like the people you do know, same faults, same everything.

I think how you look is the most important thing in the world. If you look cute, you are cute; if you look smart, you are smart, and if you don’t look like anything, you aren’t anything.

Worry, doubt, self-distrust, fear and despair; these are the long, long years that bow the head and turn the growing spirit back to dust.

You grow up real quick, a half-Mexican in a sailor’s suit, because I’d be riding the streetcar to school everyday.

When people talked about protecting their privacy when I was growing up, they were talking about protecting it from the government.

We all learn by imitating, as children, as students, as novices in the world of business.

No matter where you are or where you grow up, you always go through the same awkward moments of being a teenager and growing up and trying to figure out who you are.

I was not one of those people who wanted to be a comedian when I was growing up. I liked comedy, but didn’t know it was something you could do for a living.

For me, I never ever felt the ownership or any identity with any community of disabilities. I didn’t grow up being told that I was a disabled child.

I was never part of that cliquey girl drama. Most of my friends were guys growing up, so I was never part of that whole toxic energy. It seemed like way too much hassle.