Jennifer Donnelly Quotes
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With 'A Northern Light,' I've already heard from teenage readers, teachers, librarians - it's been so gratifying. It's amazing that you can take something that matters so deeply to you and make it matter to someone else.
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Happiness was useless to me. It was heartache that filled my purse. What happy man has need of Shakespeare?
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We're not punished for our sins, lad. We're punished by them.
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Well, it seems to me that there are books that tell stories, and then there are books that tell truths... The first kind, they show you life like you want it to be. With villains getting what they deserve and the hero seeing what a fool he's been and marrying the heroine and happy endings and all that... But the second kind, they show you life more like it is... The first kind makes you cheerful and contented, but the second kind shakes you up.
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I could almost hear the characters inside, murmuring and jostling, impatient for me to open the cover and let them out.
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Make them care, Mattie,' she said softly. 'And don't you ever be sorry.' -Emily Wilcox.
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They sat quietly together for a few minutes, Joe holding Fiona's hand, Fiona sniffling. No flowery words, no platitudes passed between them. Joe would have done anything to ease her suffering, but he knew nothing he might do, or say, could. Her grief would run its course, like a fever, and release her when it was spent. He would not shush her or tell her it was God's will and that her da was better off. That was rubbish and they both knew it. When something hurt as bad as this, you had to let it hurt. There were no shortcuts.
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But words are more powerful than anything.
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I play until my fingers are blue and stiff from the cold, and then I keep on playing. Until I'm lost in the music. Until I am the music--notes and chords, the melody and harmony. It hurts, but it's okay because when I'm the music, I'm not me. Not sad. Not afraid. Not desperate. Not guilty.
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She's got a big belt around her hips. It has a shiny buckle with PRADA on it, which is Italian for insecure.
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History is a Rorschach test, people. What you see when you look at it tells you as much about yourself as it does about the past.
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Stop yelling. If everyone’s yelling, no one can be heard.
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There is a ghost here. A lonely, heartbroken spirit. The ghost of everything that could've been and never was.
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For mad I may be, but I will never be convenient.
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Her grey eyes sparkled with passion as she spoke. Sid looked into them and for a second he glimpsed her soul. He saw what she was - fierce and brave. Upright. Impatient. And good. So good that she would sit covered in gore, shout at dangerous men, and keep a long, lonely vigil - all to save the likes of him. He realized she was a rare creature, as rare as a rose in winter.
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Namaste. It was a Nepalese greeting. It meant: The light within me bows to the light within you.
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Writers are damned liars. Every single one of them.
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I need a boy who thinks with his big head, not his little one. Since they do not exist, I have fashioned my own.
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Becuse God loves us, but the devil takes an interest.
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For the first time, I saw what was in his heart, and I wondered if he might ever want to look deep enough to see mine.
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Never take what's offered, always ask for more.
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Sometimes, when you catch someone unaware at just the right time and in just the right light, you can catch sight of what they will be.
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It's only the body that's gone. Only the body. There's a part that doesn't go in the ground, a part that stays inside you forever.
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When you can write music that endures, bravo. Until then, keep quiet and study the work of those who can.