Quotes from Jeannette Walls

Ironing was a particularly galling waste of time. You'd spend twenty minutes pressing one shirt front and back, spraying starch and getting the creases sharp, but once the man of the house put it on, it would wrinkle as soon as he bent an elbow; plus, you couldn't even see whether the danged shirt was ironed or not under his suit coat.

Sad state to spend your life in. Being afraid of your own self. Rex Walls

But the positive thoughts would give away to negative thoughts, and the negative thoughts seemed to swoop into her mind the way a big flock of black crows takes over the landscape, sitting thick in the trees and on the fence rails and lawns, staring at you in ominous silence.

I was torturing the fire, giving it life, and snuffing it out.

I'm a grown woman now," Mom said almost every morning. "Why can't I do what I want to do?

When Dad wasn't telling us about all the amazing things he had already done, he was telling us about the wondrous things he was going to do. Like build the Glass Castle.

And if the world went to hell in a handbasket-as it seemed to be doing-you could say good-bye to everyone and retreat to your land, hunkering down and living off it.

We each needed to respect the religious practices of others, seeing as it was up to every human being to find his or her own way to heaven

Every damn thing in the universe can be broken down into smaller things, even atoms, even protons, so theoretically speaking, I guess you had a winning case. A collection of things should be considered one thing. Unfortunately, theory don't always carry the day.

Anyone who thinks he's too small to make a difference has never been bit by a mosquito.

A little while after we'd moved into the depot, we heard Mom and Dad talking about buying us kids real beds, and we said they shouldn't do it. We liked our boxes. They made going to bed seem like an adventure.

Mom also hinted a couple of times that it was good I was going to college, since with one failed marriage behind me, I 'd have trouble landing a good husband and would need something to fall back on. A package that's been opened once doesn't have the same appeal.

I could hear people around us whispering about the crazy drunk man and his dirty little urchin children, but who cared what they thought?

We're becoming a nation of sissies.

You can't live in fear of something as basic as fire.

You know you're down and out when Okies laugh at you,' she said. With our garbage bag taped window, our tied down hood, and art supplies strapped to the roof, we'd out-Okied the Okies.

Cooking a meal that would be consumed in fifteen minutes had no appeal when she could make a painting that might last forever.

Anyone who thinks he's too small to make a difference has never been bit by a mosquito, I'd tell people.

The tree burst into color and we all gasped at the red, yellow, green, white and the blue lights boldly growing in the cold night, the only lights for miles around in the inmense darkness of the range.

Everyone has something good about them. You have to find the redeeming quality and love the person for that. Oh Yeah? I said. How about Hitler? What was his redeeming quality? Hitler loved dogs Mom said without hesitation.

We laughed about all the kids who believed in the Santa Claus myth and got nothing for Christmas but a bunch of cheap plastic toys. Years from now, when all the junk they got is broken and long forgotten, Dad said, you'll still have your stars.

Mom was thirty-eight, not young but not old, either. In twenty-five years, I told myself, I'd be as old as she was now. I had no idea what my life would be like then, but as I gathered up my schoolbooks and walked out the door, I swore to myself that it would never be like Mom's, that I would not be crying my eyes out in an unheated shack in some

You mean you own land worth a million dollars?" I was thunderstruck. All those years in Welch with no food, no coal, no plumbing, and Mom had been sitting on land worth a million dollars?

We laughed about all the kids who believed in the Santa myth and got nothing for Christmas but a bunch of cheap plastic toys. Years from now, when all the junk they got is broken and long forgotten, Dad said, you'll still have your stars.