Quotes from Jennifer McMahon

Madness is always a wonderful excuse, don't you think? For doing terrible things to other people.

they were exactly what the other needed; the missing piece that made everything else magically click into place.

we all do what we think is best. Sometimes we make terrible mistakes, sometimes we do the right thing. Sometimes we never know. We just have to hope

Q: Bury deep, Pile on stones, Yet I will Dig up the bones. What am I? A: Memories — A FOLK RIDDLE

Storytelling wasn't about making things up. It was more like inviting the stories to come through her, let themselves be told.

She was his great adventure; his love for her had taken him places he'd never dreamed of going.

And, as in all fairy tales, there was bloodshed, there was loss.

Lisa smiled. 'You know how sometimes, you catch the faintest hint of movement in the corner of your eye, then you blink and it's gone? That's them.

How can you dream if you don't have a soul?

The tragedies we endure shape our lives: we carry them like shadows

The world was full of dangers now that she was pregnant: mercury in tuna, hot tubs, beer, secondhand smoke, over-the-counter medicine. Not to mention crazy baby-abducting fairy kings.

Young Reverend Ayers looks at a lake and sees only his own reflection in it; that is what God is to him. He does not see the creatures that live down deep, the dragonflies that hover, the frog on the lily pad." Auntie's face was full of pity and scorn as she shook her head and spat tobacco juice again. "His heart and mind are closed to the true beauty of the lake, the place where all its magic lies.

the dead can blame

I've lived here ... my whole life. It's where I lost all my baby teeth. Where tiny hamster, gerbil, and bird skeletons lie in rotted-out cardboard coffins beneath the oak tree in our backyard. Also where, if some future archaeologist goes digging, they'll find the remains of a plush toy: a gray terrier named Toto I buried after the accident.

Think of me. Remember me. Love me.

And deep down, she felt like maybe she didn't deserve it-that she belonged with the petty thieves and guys who drank Pabst Blue Ribbon for breakfast

Grief is a monster.

I think people see what they want to see... But think about it: if you'd lost someone you love, wouldn't you give almost anything to have the chance to see them again?

What people don't understand, they destroy.

For some people, Rose, it's easier to pretend the things that frighten us most don't exist at all.

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

You're facing your demons. You'll come out stronger.

What if things happened to you—special, magic things—because you'd been preparing for them?

And, as Rhonda told the story, she thought: this is how the past gets passed down. This is how memories are made. Half-invented, embellished, given a touch of whimsy.