Jessica Martinez Quotes

I could feel myself shrinking. I couldn't move, not even to blink or breathe. Soon I'd be nothing at all.

Lame. Fine, work on your mural. I'll go suck on a Froot Loop or something. Or maybe I'll just eat straight sugar. Yeah, I'll do that."
"Good-bye, Mo."
"A raisin. We probably have raisins. I'm sure nature's candy will hit the spot.

We watch the chef slice eel and octopus, delicate operations of dismemberment and amputation. For some reason it makes me think of poetry.

I wait. I don't know how long it will take his reproductive organs to decide life is worth living again, but I'm stuck here until they do.

That church . . . it reminds me of one in downtown Chicago. Do you remember? That beautiful one with the courtyard near the Drake."
Jeremy took a newspaper from a stack behind him and sat across from me. "I know the one you're talking about, but that church," he gestured out the window, "is older than America."
I sighed. "Of course it is. Did I really just try to compare British and American architecture? How insensitive of me.

He laughed. 'I thought you said you weren't scared of her.'
'I said I wasn't nervous, and I'm not nervous because I know not to do anything stupid, like make out, for example, in front of my grandma.'
'My fingers touching your fingers is making out?

I don't know a thing about jazz."
"That's okay." He pulled me toward the door and opened it. "You know music. Jazz will explain itself.

When does she leave again?' He'd taken my hand now and was drawing me into him.
I pulled back but let him keep holding it. 'One week. Maybe we should go over appropriate topics of conversation.'
'Right, because otherwise I might bring up my career as a porn star or those years I spent in juvie.

I'm going to be late. I get home exactly sixteen minutes before my shift starts, which only gives me six minutes to get it together and get out the door. By get it together I mean calm the freak down, because I'm jittery and spastic and acting, as Mo would say, like a squirrel on crack.

And where's my ring?

She laughs, drops her fists in her lap. 'Your Ring? Where's my ring? And why aren't you down on one knee?'

Because I'm driving and because you're the one who asked me. Everybody knows the asker supplies the jewelry.

'Everybody knows? You made that up- how would everybody know? The guy always buys the ring.'

Moneys tight. How about Junior Mints and a Coke instead?

'Deal,' she says.

That's to British," I countered.
"What is?"
"Making sweeping generalizations about Americans because that makes you feel better about having a national inferiority complex the size of the Atlantic Ocean. I was just trying to be helpful, but if folding your pizza threatens you sense of patriotism, you probably shouldn't do it.

I have to close my eyes as the flavors burst in my mouth - gentle heat from the pepper, salty tang of the pork, sweetness of pomegranate, the velvety-rich walnut sauce. He's waiting, but I don't know what to say. 'I love you; can I have your babies' might scare him, but it's my most sincere thought.

The violin wasn't alive. It wasn't a baby or an animal, not living.
But that would be easier to believe if I hadn't felt it breathe and sing.

For all her cute-as-a-button-ness, Bree had a laugh that reminded me of the noise Charly had made that time she shredded her fingertips on the cheese grater.

She blinks long. Long. Like a prayer-blink.

Not being heard was my goal for the night. Dr. Kinzer's constant advice was 'Blend, Amelia, blend!' but what she really meant was 'Lip-sync, Amelia, lip-sync!

Cute kid. Dimples, curls, he's like a male Shirley Temple.