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Because I've heard so many stories that I don't know which one is the most popular. But I do know which is the least popular. The truth.

Jay Asher

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Jay Asher
Age: 49
Born: 1975
Born: September 30
Novelist
Writer
Arcadia
California
Popular
Least
Heard
Stories
Truth
Many

More quotes by Jay Asher

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And at some point, the struggle becomes too much-too tiring-and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy... or whatever... to happen.
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And everyone knows you can’t disprove a rumor.
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A flood of emotions rushes into me. Pain and anger. Sadness and pity. But most surprising of all, hope.
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And here he is again, yet things feel like they'll never be as easy between us as they once were.
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You can't go back to how things were. How you thought they were. All you really have is...now.
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Everything...affects everything
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When you try rescuing someone and discover they can't be reached, why would you ever throw that back in their face?
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God, I am freaking out. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe I just look guilty of something and he’s picking up on that.
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And what if in the future we're at war again, or we still haven't elected a non-white or non-male president, or the Rolling Stones are still dragging their tired old butts on stage? That would depress me way too much.
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We all know the sound a camera makes when it snaps a picture. Even some of the digitals do it for nostalgia’s sake.
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Actually, I love trying to figure out why certain books become hits while others, which may be just as good, have trouble finding an audience.
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She wants to believe my excuses so bad. Every time I lie, she wants to believe me so much.
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Yes, it feels great to plan your life when you believe everything can turn out fine. But what about when you're shown, again and again, how little control you have over anything? No matter what I do to try to fix my future, it doesn't work.
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It was love because it was worth it.
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It's nothing. A school project. My go-to answer for anything. Staying out late? School project. Need extra money? School project.
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And after I dropped him off, I took the longest possible route home... I explored alleys and hidden roads I never knew existed. I discovered neighborhoods entirely new to me. And finally... I discovered I was sick of this town and everything in it.
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If I had a chance with him, I missed it. No, I didn't miss it. I threw it away.
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A week went by and nothing. But eventually, as they always will, the rumors reached me. And everyone knows you can't disprove a rumor.
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I could picture life—school and everything else—continuing on without me. But I could not picture my funeral. Not at all. Mostly because I couldn’t imagine who would attend or what they would say.
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I want to look back. To look over my shoulder and see the Stop sign with huge reflective letters, pleading with Hannah. Stop!
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