Laurie Halse Anderson Famous Quotes
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They yell at me because I can't see what they see. Nobody can explain to me why my eyes work different than theirs.
The next time you work on your trees, don't think about trees. Think about love, or hate, or joy, or rage
whatever makes you feel something, makes your palms sweat or your toes curl.
The warped perception of time is a hallmark of trauma.
Had she ever enjoyed anything? Had every day been a struggle? Perhaps death would be a release, a rest for the weary.
I knew it!" He pumps a fist into the air. "You've fallen in love with me. You want to have my babies. We'll get a team of horses and a covered wagon and we'll journey to South America and raise goats.
Keep home in your heart, where no one can steal it.
I lift my arm out of the water. It's a log. Put it back under and it blows up even bigger. People see the log and call it a twig. They yell at me because I can't see what they see. Nobody can explain to me why my eyes work different than theirs. Nobody can make it stop.
So, she tells me, the words dribbling out with the cranberry muffin crumbs, commas dunked in her coffee.
Write about the emotions you fear the most.
It's amazing any thing survives.
A group of little creatures is coming up the walk. A pirate, a dinosaur, two fairies, and a bride. Why is it that you never see a kid dressed as a groom on Halloween?
I am locked into the mirror and there is no door out.
A member of the Archery Club tries to say that we are all foreigners and we should give the country back to the Native Americans, but she's buried under disagreement.
We swore sacred oaths to be strong and to save the planet and to be friends forever.
The feedback I get is that my books are honest. I don't sugar-coat anything. Life is really hard.
TEN MORE LIES THEY TELL YOU IN HIGH SCHOOL
1. You will use algebra in your adult lives.
2. Driving to school is a privilege that can be taken away.
3. Students must stay on campus during lunch.
4. The new text books will arrive any day now.
5. Colleges care more about you than your SAT scores.
6. We are enforcing the dress code.
7. We will figure out how to turn off the heat soon.
8. Our bus drivers are highly trained professionals.
9. There is nothing wrong with summer school.
10. We want to hear what you have to say.
I don't reread my books after they're published, because it's agony.
I stuff my mouth with old fabric and scream until there are no sounds left under my skin.
It's always there - fear - and if you don't stay on top of it, you'll drown.
Few people know this, but I am a trained assassin, skilled in jujitsu and krav maga. I can also, with a few folds, turn an ordinary piece of notebook paper into a lethal weapon. Or I can turn it into a butterfly, which is a great trick when I'm babysitting."
I fought a smile. "A trained assassin who babysits."
"Only the Greene twins and only because their family gets every premium channel on the planet.
I get caught up in the excitement and clap like a little girl.
This is my mistake, thinking I belong. I should have bolted for home immediately. But I don't. I hang around. I want to be a part of it all.
Has she received any letters from Lockton?'
The question hit me like a bucket of cold water. 'You asking me to spy again?'
'Listen,' he started, 'Our freedom-'
I did not let him continue. 'You are blind. They don't want us free. They just want liberty for themselves.
Eating was hard. Breathing was hard. Living was hardest.
We are studying American history for the ninth time in nine years.
The room does not smell like apple. It smells like frog juice, a cross between a nursing home and potato salad. The Back Row pays attention. Cutting dead frogs is cool.
Have you considered what you might do to help? You have recovered, so you cannot get the fever again. You are young and strong. We have a real need for you."
"How can I help anyone? I'm just a girl." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted to pinch myself. The first time anyone treats me like a woman and I respond like an infant.
We have to acknowledge that adolescence is that time of transition where we begin to introduce to children that life isn't pretty, that there are difficult things, there are hard situations, it's not fair. Bad things happen to good people.
Why? You want to know why? Step into a tanning booth and fry yourself for two or three days. After your skin bubbles and peels off, roll in coarse salt, then pull on long underwear woven from spun glass and razor wire. Over that goes your regular clothes, as long as they are tight.
The school board banned one of Maya Angelou's books, so the librarian had to take down her poster.
I fished it out of the trash.
She must be a great writer if the school board is scared of her.
I can't do everything for you. You must walk alone to find your soul.
I swallowed the fear. It's always there– fear– and if you don't stay on top of it, you'll drown. I swallowed again and stood tall, shoulders broad, arms loose. I was balanced, ready to move. My body said, "Yeah, you're bigger and stronger, but if you touch this, I will hurt you.
I wake up breathing dirt. I cough and spit out the pebbles in my mouth, but when I inhale again, wet clots of clay fill my lungs.
I see IT in the hallway. IT goes to Merryweather. IT is walking with Aubrey cheerleader. IT is my nightmare and I can't wake up.IT sees me. IT smiles and winks. Good thing my lips are stitched together or I'd throw up.
I am an iceberg drifting toward the edge of the map.
But I had never seen a first aid kit for the spirit...
I believe that you've created a metaphorical universe in which you can express your darkest fears. In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves, and sometimes we do such a good job, we lose track of reality.
Welcome to the only class that will teach you to how to survive
Welcome to Art.
Plants make way more seeds than they need, because they know that life is not perfect and all the seeds won't make it.
There is a beast in my gut, I can hear it scraping away at the inside of my ribs.
If I can write a book that will help the world make a little more sense to a teen, then that's why I was put on the planet.
I can't tell anymore when I'm asleep and when I'm awake, or which is worse.
Nicole can do anything that involves a ball and whistle.
Homework is not an option. My bed is sending out serious nap rays. I can't help myself. The fluffy pillows and warm comforter are more powerful than I am. I have no choice but to snuggle under the covers.
No. Absolutely not. I forbid it. You'll have nightmares."
"She was my friend! You must allow me. Why are you so horrid?"
As soon as the angry words were out of my mouth, I knew I had gone too far.
"Matilda!" Mother rose from her chair. "You are forbidden to pseak to me in that tone! Apologize at once.
weareheretogetagoodfoundation sowecangotocollegeliveuptoourpotentialgetagoodjoblivehap pilyeverafterandgotoDisneyWorld,
Why not spend that time on art: painting, sculpting, charcoal, pastel, oils? Are words or numbers more important than images? Who decides this? Does algebra move you to tears? Can plural possessives express the feelings in your heart? If you don't learn art now, you will never learn to breathe!
I am not going to think about it. It was ugly, but it's over, and I'm not going to think about it.
I stand in the center aisle of the auditorium, a wounded zebra in a National Geographic special, looking for someone, anyone to sit next to. A predator approaches: gray jock buzz cut, whistle around a neck thicker than his head. Probably a social studies teacher, hired to coach a blood sport.
I know how bad you feel. Trapped," she says. "It gets better, I promise. So much better.
Fracture lines etch the surface of the glass box as if a body fell from the sky and landed on it.
I've written in every imaginable location; a repurposed closet, the kitchen table, the bleachers while my kids had basketball practice, the front seat of the car when they were at soccer. In airports. On trains. In the break room when I was supposed to be wolfing down dinner. In the back of classrooms when I was supposed to be paying attention.
Gossip is the foul smell from the Devil's backside.
Take your age the first time a stranger touched
your body with danger in his hands,
evil-minded...
But it's not usually a stranger, is it<
Why don't you want to see your mom? Did she burn your
dolls in a sacrificial fire? Read your e-mail?"
"She wants to run my life," I explain.
"What a bitch. It's like she thinks she's your mother
or something."
"She's a psychopath," I said. "It's complicated."
"Psychopaths can't afford fur coats."
"This one can.
I knew I wouldn't get an invitation. I would be lucky to get an invitation to my own funeral, with my reputation.
Maybe your son didn't get that job because he's not good enough. Or he's lazy. Or the other guy was better than him, no matter what his skin color. I think the white people who have been here for two hundred years are the ones pulling down the country. They don't know how to work - they've had it too easy
I nod like I'm listening,like we're communicating, and she never knows the difference.
I have survived. I am here.
Leaning against my father, the sadness finally broke open inside me, hollowing out my heart and leaving me bleeding. My feet felt rooted in the dirt. There were more than two bodies buried here. Pieces of me that I didn't even know were under the ground. Pieces of dad, too.
Emma is a mattress who got thrown off the truck when her parents split up. It's not like you can blame a mattress when people don't tie it down tight enough.
I am super proud of being an American, but we fail our veterans every day.
Mr. Freeman sighs. No imagination. What are you thirteen? Fourteen? You've already let them beat your creativity out of you!
Here stands a girl clutching a knife. There is grease on the stove, blood in the air, and angry words piled in the corners. We are trained not to see it, not to see any of it ... Someone just ripped off my eyelids.
Revision means throwing out the boring crap and making what's left sound natural.
Do I want to die from the inside out or the outside in?
When life sucks, read. They can't yell at you for that. And if they do, then you can ignore them.
There's no point in asking why, even though everybody will. I know why. The harder question is "why not?" I can't believe she ran out of answers before I did.
Everyone is born a freak," notes Hayley. "Every newborn baby, wet and hungry and screaming, is a fresh-hatched freak who wants to have a good time and make the world a better place ... Most teenagers wind up in high school. And high school is where the zombification process becomes deadly.
I had let down my shields, that was the problem. The crazy inside Dad had infected me, weakened me so that when Finn smiled, I'd been vulnerable. I'd dropped my shields and let myself pretend that somebody like Finn would want to be with somebody like me.
When I was a real girl, my mother fed me her glass dreams one spoonful at a time. Harvard. Yale. Princeton. Duke. Undergrad. Med school. Internship, residency, God. She'd brush my hair and braid it with long words, weaving the Latin roots and Greek branches into my head so memorizing anatomy would come easy.
The books I'd checked out of the library earlier in the week were still stacked on my bureau, whispering my name and begging to be read.
I'm just going to pretend that a very good-smelling, incredibly warm stranger is sitting next to me, a harmless stranger.
Our culture has the expectation that the memories of a happy childhood will somehow ground you and prepare you for adult life. But what about the memories that cut, that wound, that won't heal?
Gloaming," Dad said. "What?" "That word I couldn't remember. Gloaming. That short, murky time between half-light and dark.
But that's the wrong question. Ask why everyone else is so pathetically stupid and why they're always whining about detention, I should get a medal for not slapping people in the face every day.
Sometimes being an adult means doing the right thing, even if it's not what you want.
I am spinning the silk threads of my story, weaving the fabric of my world.
I'd treat myself to a reading marathon all weekend. All the ice cream I could eat, all the pages I could read. Heaven.
I'm a big 'Star Trek' fan.
You gonna spend the rest of your days whining because you dad's a jerk? I hate people like that. Don't be a baby - live your own life.
Mandatory community service seemed like hypocrisy,
I needed to hear the world but didn't want the world to know I was listening.
Gym should be illegal. It's humiliating.
I don't know anything. My trees suck.
A teacher (a good teacher) is composed of molecules of education and intelligence, bonded together by patience and passion.
Because I am still a little girl who believes in Santa and the tooth fairy and you.
Superheroes work the hardest when things get tough.
I try to read while eating alone, but the noise gets between my eyes and the page and I can't see through it.
Rape wounds deeply, splits open
your core with shrapnel.
The stench of the injury attracts maggots
which hatch into clouds of doubt and self-loathing
the dirt you feel inside you nourishes
anxiety, depression, and shame
poisoning your blood, festering
in your brain until you will do anything to stop
feeling the darkness rising within
anything
to stop feeling–
untreated pain
is a cancer of the soul
that can kill you
Look in a mirror and find a ghost. Hear every heartbeat scream that everysinglething is wrong with you.
You know how sometimes you hear a chord played on an organ and you can feel it vibrating in your bones? Sometimes when I'm writing, I can feel my bones vibrating because I'll have a thought or I'll have a character's voice in my head, and that's when I know I'm on the right track.
We'd itch the vermin feasting on our flesh and share the day's many rumors:
The King had declared peace.
No, the King was sending German and Russian mercenaries to destroy us.
A ball of fire as big as a man's head fell from heaven to Hatboro - a good omen. But there'd been an earthquake near York just as a cat gave birth to puppies, which meant the worst.
I reach for funny books all the time to help me get through life.
She offered herself to the big, bad wolf and didn't scream when he took the first bite.
The winds of the desert have names. They feed on the bodies of broken children and rip out the beating hearts of men.
He doesn't see my breasts or my waist or my hips. He only sees the nightmare.
There was a loud shuffling above. A line of redcoats took their position at the edge of the ravine and aimed down at the rebels.
"Present!" the British officer screamed to his men.
"Present!" yelled the American officer. His men brought the butts of their muskets up to their shoulders and sighted down the long barrels, ready to shoot and kill.
I pressed my face into the earth, unable to plan a course of escape. My mind would not be mastered and thought only of the wretched, lying, foul, silly girl who was the cause of everything.
I thought of Isabel and I missed her.
"FIRE!
No wonder the zombies were crazy. They thought they were supposed to practice breeding before they learned how to do their own laundry. They talked about it, thought about it, maybe did it, all while going through the motions of attending class and learning stuff so that they could go forth and become productive adults. Whatever that was supposed to mean.
That's pretty good, for a young girl
from Fever 1793
I can never tell with moments of silence. They're so ... silent. Empty.