Quotes from Jeanne DuPrau

enough is all that a person of wisdom needs.

Resentment increased on both sides, until any little accident could flare up into a fight.

But how could you? said Lina. When people have been mean to you, why would you want to be good to them? You wouldn't want to, Maddy said. That's what makes it hard. You do it anyway. Being good is hard. Much harder than being bad.

I don't think there's such a thing as an easy life. There's always going to be hard work, and there will always be misfortunes we can't control lurking out at the edges—storms, sickness, wolves. But there is such a thing as a good life, and I think we have one here.

pressed up against the rear wall, half hidden by shirts and dresses dangling from hangers, was a tall, thin girl with wide, terrified eyes. Her hands were wrapped around the muzzle of a small, wildly squirming dog.

Goats and oxen, pulling carts in from the field, left their big, smelly plops all over. these got cleaned up eventually-someone came and scraped them into buckets and took them away-but often this didn't happen until halfway through the morning, and people had to step carefully until then and breathe in that powerful smell.

His vision of the future, already shadowed by anxiety, had just grown several shades darker.

The people of Ember were just as grubby as the people of Sparks; everyone looked more or less the same.

Tick wanted power. He wanted glory. He wanted war, with himself in command. He had raised his army

Tick wanted power. He wanted glory. He wanted war, with himself in command. He had raised his army by attacking his own people.

This is such an amazing world, he said finally, putting the glass and magnet into his pocket. I love it here, except for the troubles with people.

why this world, which was so full of beauty and wonder, had to also be so full of horrors.

down the stone steps to the windswept beach, her raven tresses flowing out behind her. She scanned the empty sands, and when she saw no sign of Blaine, a great cry of anguish escaped her lips. She could not live without him! She would sooner die!

People had figured it out once, she thought. They could figure it out again.

She decided to keep this letter because of the strange way it was written.

What must the ancient world have been like, she wondered, with all these strange things moving around in it? Was it wonderful or terrible?

Doon went up close to the wall of the hotel and examined the words scratched there. He pictured the people who had done it, clutching their burnt chunks of wood, writing with big, angry strokes in the dark of the night. Yes, Tick was right. Hatred seethed in those jagged letters. He felt almost as if their strokes had scraped open his skin.

The rhythm of his steps said, Happy to be here, happy to be here. Rays of sunlight shot between the clouds, making spots of light like polka dots on the ground.

You know, son, I don't think there's such a thing as an easy life. There's always going to be hard work, and there will always be misfortunes we can't control lurking out at the edges - storms, sickness, wolves. But there is such a thing as a good life, and I think we have one here -Mr. Harrow

What you get is what you get. What you do with what you get, though . . . that's more the point, wouldn't you say?

Crystal didn't like delays. She was a fast-moving, efficient person, and when her way was blocked, she became very tense and spoke with her lips in two hard lines.

Mysterious Words from the Past

Signs of craziness, like Hoyt McCoy dancing around naked? Disgusting filthiness, like a smelly outhouse or rat-swarmed garbage?

She heard a scrape, and then a rustling sound.