Jennifer Donnelly Quotes

And then I remember this morning and I wonder if it really happened or if I dreamed it. It was nice. And weird. And tender. I'm not used to tender. It's a fossil, that word. Conditions changed and it died out. Like the woolly mammoth. It just couldn't live in the same world as dick box. Ho dog. Or wiener cousins.

A new word. Bright with possibilities. A flawless pearl to turn over and over in my hand, then put away for safekeeping.

When you can write music that endures, bravo. Until then, keep quiet and study the work of those who can.

DNA tells you all the secrets of life,’ he used to say. Except for one - how to live it.

I think your vision gets better as you get older.

There were times when I lifted my face to the sky, stretched my arms wide to the winter night, and laughed out loud, so happy was I.

The memory of it makes me laugh now, but not from happiness.

Be careful what you show the world.

You never know when the wolf is watching.

The greenest of pastures are right here on earth.

As I nodded and smiled and umm-hmm'd and oh, my'd my way down the drive, I wondered if boys had any sort of magazine that told them how to attract women and, if so, did it ever tell them to put the girls' interests first?

I'm wishing he could see that music lives. Forever. That it's stronger than death. Stronger than time. And that its strength holds you together when nothing else can.

You can't argue with the dead, no matter what you say, they always have the last word.

Becuse God loves us, but the devil takes an interest.

Only the hopeless love God.

God loves us, but the devil takes an interest.

I don't like hope very much. In fact, I hate it. It's the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard. It's bad news. The worst. It's sharp sticks and cherry bombs. When hope shows up, it's only a matter of time until someone gets hurt.

Hope is the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard.

I listened as the words became sentences and the sentences became pages and the pages became feelings and voices and places and people.

I could almost hear the characters inside, murmuring and jostling, impatient for me to open the cover and let them out.

But eating was the last thing on my mind. And I didn't see how Miss Wilcox could eat, or teach, or sleep or ever find any reason to leave this room. Not with all these books in it, just begging to be read.

I grew up on a mixed diet of mass and class, and I still read that way. I hate it when people apologize for what they read. Some bestsellers aren't exactly literary. So what? They're fun and rip-roaring, Who instituted the book police and why do we have to answer them? Grrrrr!

Had you but seen it, I promise you, your high-minded principles would have melted like candle wax. Never would you have wished such beauty away.