Quotes from Lois Lowry

From across the room, Mama watched them

When I was very young, about four, I had a friend names Modest Storewrecker.

Your father means that you used a very generalized word, so meaningless that it's become almost obsolete," his mother explained carefully.

The newchild stirred slightly in his sleep. Jonas looked over at him. "There could be love," Jonas whispered.

Now he became aware of an entirely new sensation: pinpricks? No, because they were soft and without pain. Tiny, cold, featherlike feelings peppered his body and face. He put out his tongue again, and caught one of the dots of cold upon it. It disappeared from his awareness instantly; but he caught another, and another. The sensation made him smile.

From another: ". . . Jonas was kind of like Jesus because he took the pain for everyone else in the community so they wouldn't have to suffer. And, at the very end of the book, when Jonas and Gabe reached the place that they knew as Elsewhere, you described Elsewhere as if it were heaven.

eating together as always: Lily chattering away, Mother and Father making their customary

But now Jonas had experienced real sadness. He had felt grief. He knew that there was no quick comfort for emotions like those. These were deeper and they did not need to be told. They were felt. Today, he felt happiness.

He felt himself overwhelmed with a new perception of the colour he knew as red.

A female Eleven named Tanya staggered forward from where she had been hiding.

There were only two occasions of release which were not punishment. Release of the elderly, which was a time of celebration for a life well and fully lived; and release of a newchild, which always brought a sense of what-could-we-have-done.

What's your problem, Sam?" she asked in a bored voice. If they didn't deal with his first, he would keep interrupting. "A pea in my nose," he said, sounding frightened. "You put a pea in your nose? Sam! Why on earth did you do that?

looked at her. She was so lovely. For a fleeting instant he thought he would like nothing better than to ride peacefully along the river path, laughing and talking with his gentle female friend.

There was no fuel now for the homes and apartments in Copenhagen, and the winter nights were terribly cold.

Do you remember the day when the plane flew over the community? Yes. I was scared. So were they. They prepared to shoot it down. But they sought my advice. I told them to wait. But how did you know? How did you know the pilot was lost? I didn't. I used my wisdom, from the memories. I knew that there had been times in the past--terrible times--when people had destroyed others in haste, in fear, and had brought about their own destruction.

Fear was always a part of life for the people. Because of fear, they made shelter and found food and grew things. For the same reason, weapons were stored, waiting. There was fear of cold, of sickness and hunger. There was fear of beasts. And fear propelled her now as she stood, leaning on her stick.

Jonas reached the opposite side of the river, stopped briefly, and looked back. The community where his entire life had been lived lay behind him now, sleeping. At dawn, the orderly, disciplined life he had always known would continue again, without him. The life where nothing was ever unexpected. Or inconvenient. Or unusual. The life without color, pain, or past.

The Giver continued. "I backed off, gave her more little delights. But everything changed, once she knew about pain. I could see it in her eyes." "She wasn't brave enough?" Jonas suggested. The Giver didn't respond to the question. "She insisted that I continue, that I not spare her. She said it was her duty. And I knew, of course, that she was correct.

the long neck that extended from his stiff collar.

It's bye-bye to you, Gabe, in the morning," Father had said, in his sweet, sing-song voice.

They have never known pain

Gabriel had been bathed and was lying, for the moment, hugging his hippo placidly in the small crib that had replaced the basket

Mother and Father making their customary comments (and lies, Jonas knew) about the day.

Jonas, your memories would not be lost with you. Memories are forever.