Quotes from Laurie Halse Anderson

I am spinning the silk threads of my story, weaving the fabric of my world. They tiny elf-dancer became a wooden doll whose strings were jerked by people not paying attention. I spun out of control. Eating was hard. Breathing was hard. Living was hardest.

Melinda, Mr. Freeman says. Snow filters into the car and melts on the dashboard. You're a good kid. I think you have a lot to say. I'd like to hear it. I close the door.

slowly I can't stand this bled into I can't stay here trickled through I should leave swelled into I want to leave rose into a tidal wave of I'm going

I unscrewed the top of my head and rinsed out my brainpan with salt water from the North Sea and so began my next life

When Heather sees what I have done, she bursts into tears again, sobbing that it isn't my fault. My stomach is killing me. Her room isn't big enough for this much emotion. I leave without saying goodbye.

I wake up on time for four days in a row, get on the bus four days in a row, ride home after school. I want to scream. I think I'll need to take a day off every once in a while.

That's such bullshit, Mythology repeated by parents because it lets them force their kids into sports and push them too hard by pretending that in the end it will pay off with the holy scholarship. You know how many kids get a free ride? Hardly any. Like, maybe fourteen.' -Finn (165)

Mostly I watch the scary movies playing on the inside of my eyelids.

I HEARD BULLETS WHISTLE AND BELIEVE ME, THERE IS SOMETHING CHARMING IN THE SOUND. —LETTER FROM THE TWENTY-TWO-YEAR-OLD GEORGE WASHINGTON DESCRIBING HIS FIRST TASTE OF BATTLE T

Hawthorne wanted snow to symbolize cold, that's what I think. Cold and silence. Nothing quieter than snow. The sky screams to deliver it, a hundred banshees flying on the edge of the blizzard. But once the snow covers the ground, it hushes as still as my heart.

The bell rings. Hairwoman blocks the door to give out our assignment. A five-?hundred-?word essay on symbolism, how to find hidden meanings in Hawthorne. The whole class yells at Rachel/Rachelle in the hall. That's what you get for speaking up.

Look in a mirror and find a ghost. Hear every heartbeat scream that everysinglething is wrong with you. Why? is the wrong question. Ask Why not?

My timing is perfect, and I wind up in a traffic jam. The cars around me are driven by fat cows and bellowing bulls. We roll along, six mph. I can run faster than this. We brake. They chew their cud and moo into their phones until the herd shifts gears and rolls forward again.

THE SUFFRAGETTES FOUGHT FOR THE RIGHT TO SPEAK. THEY WERE ATTACKED, ARRESTED, AND THROWN IN JAIL FOR DARING TO DO WHAT THEY WANTED. LIKE THEY WERE, I AM WILLING TO STAND UP FOR WHAT I BELIEVE. NO ONE SHOULD BE FORCED TO GIVE SPEECHES. I CHOOSE TO STAY SILENT.

The opposite of innocence is not sin. Dearly beloved, the opposite of innocence is strength.

I get out of bed and take down the mirror. I put it in the back of my closet, facing the wall. OUR

God crackles over the intercom and tells Mr. Freeman he's late for a faculty meeting.

It takes more to scare me now.

I'd love to stay and chat, but my feet won't let me. I walk home instead of taking the bus. I unlock the front door and walk straight up to my room, across the rug, and into my closet without even taking off my backpack. When I close the closet door behind me, I bury my face into the clothes on the left side of the rack, clothes that haven't fit for years. I stuff my mouth with old fabric and scream until there are no sounds left under my skin.

Thanksgiving was in trouble. It needed… A SUPERHERO! No, not that kind. Thanksgiving needed a real superhero, someone bold and brave and stubborn and smart. Thanksgiving needed Sarah Hale. Now, I know what you're thinking. She doesn't look like a superhero. She looks like a dainty little lady. Never underestimate dainty little ladies.

HOW CHEQUERED IS HUMAN LIFE! HOW PRECARIOUS IS HAPPINESS! HOW EASILY DO WE OFTEN PART WITH IT FOR A SHADOW! THESE ARE THE REFLECTIONS THAT FREQUENTLY INTRUDE THEMSELVES UPON ME, WITH A PAINFUL APPLICATION. I AM GOING TO DO MY DUTY. –LETTER FROM COLONEL ALEXANDER HAMILTON TO HIS WIFE, ELIZABETH

Yesterday's dirt and mistakes have moved through me. I am shiny and pink inside, clean. Empty is good. Empty is strong.

No use crying, just get on with your life.

face my truth This is not a resting bitch face This is a touch-me-and-die face