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I made a wish on this tree years ago, Marco says. What did you wish for? Bailey asks. Marco leans forward and whispers in Bailey's ear. I wished for her.

Erin Morgenstern

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Erin Morgenstern
Age: 46
Born: 1978
Born: July 8
Novelist
Writer
Says
Leans
Asks
Marco
Marcos
Wish
Whispers
Made
Wished
Years
Ears
Forward
Tree
Bailey

More quotes by Erin Morgenstern

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Why haven’t you asked me how I do my tricks?” Celia asks, once they have reached the point where she is certain he is not simply being polite about the matter. “Because I do not wish to know,” he says. “I prefer to remain unenlightened, to better remain in the dark.
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Esse quam videri, Celia says. To be, rather than to seem.
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The finest of pleasures are always the unexpected ones.
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Life takes us to unexpected places sometimes. The future is never set in stone, remember that.
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I think that's a hallmark of a really good story that it has readers that it speaks to more than others.
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And then he tells her stories. Myths he learned from his instructor. Fantasies he created himself, inspired by bits and pieces of others read in archaic books with crackling spines.
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She turns her head, Bailey catches her eye, and she smiles at him. Not in the way that one smiles at a random member of the audience when one is in the middle of performing circus tricks with unusually talented kittens but in the way that one smiles when one recognizes someone they have not seen in some time.
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The past stays on you the way powdered sugar stays on your fingers. Some people can get rid of it but it’s still there, the events and things that pushed you to where you are now.
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Scent is often underestimated, when it can be the most evocative.
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I don't always write in order, so composing multi-book stories could get complicated.
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Her father picks different names for her as they change locales, but he uses Miranda often, presumably because he knows how much it annoys her.
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I paint very messy. I throw paint around. So when I let myself do the same sort of thing with my writing, and I would just write and write and write and revise, that's when I found my rhythm in writing.
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Memories begin to creep forward from hidden corners of your mind. Passing disappointments. Lost chances and lost causes. Heartbreaks and pain and desolate, horrible loneliness. Sorrows you thought long forgotten mingle with still-fresh wounds.
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But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares.
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He forgets that he was someone's dream once, himself.
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I couldn't tell the difference between what was real and what I wanted to be real.
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I think looking forward will be better than looking back.
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And now, I'm a best selling author, a different sort of fairy tale that I still sometimes wonder when I'll wake up from.
Erin Morgenstern
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Celia laughs and a curl of her hair falls across her cheek. Marco tentatively moves to brush it off her face, but before his fingers reach her, she pushes herself off the ledge, her silver gown a billowing cloud as she falls onto the pile of jewel-toned cushions.
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I am a fan of magic and fantasy, particularly when it's grounded in reality.
Erin Morgenstern