Quotes from Jennifer McMahon

You never know who you'll meet. The world is about connections, Regina. Not just who you know, but who they know. It's all one big web, everything interconnected, everyone tugging on each other's strings.

No one sees the world like you do, Emma. Creating art is about sharing your own personal vision with the world. Taking something no one else can see and bringing it to life.

Phoebe realized how very wrong she'd been about this house, this family. It was far darker, more dangerous than the places she'd grown up in. In the dingy little apartments her mother rented, everything was out in the open. Their lives were dirty and squalid, but they didn't pretend to be anything else. Here, things seemed so normal, so perfect, but it was all a deception.

Sometimes a butterfly is not just a butterfly. This is what Oma taught me. You know the worst thing I learned from her? You can be a monster and not even know you are one. They look like us. They think they are us. But really, they've got a monster hiding inside.

Like all stories, it has pieces which are true, and pieces which are fiction. Nothing is ever really what it seems. Remember

Sometimes they return to exact revenge.

But Tess always wondered—maybe people were better off with the watered-down version of life, life with blinders, filters, cars that ran and buildings that went up on time, simple, stupid, mindless jobs. Maybe they were happy.

Lexie and I made little paper boats like that and sent them down the canal that flowed to the stream. She'd write messages inside them, hoping they would get carried far away, be picked up by a stranger who would read: I'm being held prisoner, send help, please! This is a note from the other side of the world. Everything is upside down here.

The attic smelled like dust and mice. Piper was sure she could hear faint scuttling sounds off in the shadows, feel beady eyes upon her. She hoped it was only mice and not something larger, something more dangerous. Was it more than rustling? Was that faint breathing she heard coming from the darkest corner, the place where no light touched?

Katherine believed that when the work was going well things just fell into place, as if by magic. It was the artist's job to open herself up, let herself be guided to whatever the next step might be.

Tara grinned. "Funny how things work out

Reggie smiled. 'You haven't changed at all.' Tara took another pile of clothing from her bag and gave Reggie a sly grin from over the top of it. 'Do any of us really?

Mama and I are curled up, pressed against each other like twin commas.

The covers are tented up over me and Mama's heads, and it's all dark, like we're deep underground. Animals in a den. All warm and snuggly.

And how that lady Suz was all wrong: art is not all about chaos, about taking things apart. True art, Emma will tell them, is about finding a way to make what's broken whole.

watch Mama and Papa while they sleep. It makes me feel strange and lovely and more like a shadow than a real girl—awake when no one else is, me and the moon smiling down on Mama and Papa while they dream.

The truth was, he believed he was the luckiest man on earth to have these two for a wife and daughter—it was like getting to live with fairies or mermaids, some breathtakingly beautiful creatures he was not meant to understand fully.

All great heroes have a flaw. It's one of the things that makes them heroes.

Shape your reality. Make it true because you say it is.

I watched in total disbelief as my aunt began to expertly roll a joint. "What are you doing?" "Baking a pie, Jax. What does it look like I'm doing?

Each photo is like a novel I can never open, Gary had explained once. I can hold it in my hand and only begin to imagine what's inside -- the lives these people might have led. Sometimes if there was a little clue on the photo - a name, date, or place - he'd try to research it...

She was tough enough to chop a hole in the ice and swim in January, so it was hard to think of her being trapped by her own mind.

Gary had grown up in a small town in Idaho and said it was kid heaven—there was room to breathe, to explore, you knew your neighbors, and your parents didn't mind if you were out late because bad things never happened there. You were safe.

Oh my God!" Sam said again, his voice shaking. I've given birth to something inhuman, Phoebe thought. A lamprey with row after row of teeth.