Quote

I need a boy who thinks with his big head, not his little one. Since they do not exist, I have fashioned my own.

Jennifer Donnelly

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Jennifer Donnelly
Age: 55
Born: 1969
Born: August 29
Author
Novelist
Writer
Port Chester
New York
Bigs
Littles
Little
Fashioned
Need
Thinks
Needs
Exist
Thinking
Boys
Head
Since

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I play until my fingertips are raw. Until I rip a nail and bleed on the strings. Until my hands hurt so bad I forget my heart does.
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Men are the weak ones, luv. Didn't you know? Oh, you make a lot of noise, but its the women who are strong. Where it counts. In 'ere.
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The world goes on, stupid and brutal, but I do not. Can't you see? I do not.
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Be careful what you show the world. You never know when the wolf is watching.
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You can't argue with the dead, no matter what you say, they always have the last word.
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Voice is not just the sound that comes from your throat, but the feelings that come from your words.
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It's only the body that's gone. Only the body. There's a part that doesn't go in the ground, a part that stays inside you forever.
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I will go out again this very night with my rockets and fuses. I will blow them straight out of their comfortable beds. Blow the rooftops off their houses. Blow the black, wretched night to bits. I will not stop. For mad I may be, but I will never be convenient.
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She was his soulmate, as much a part of him as the very flesh and bone that made him. She was with him, in him, in everything he did. She was everything he wanted from his life, the very measure of his dreams.
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Writers are damned liars. Every single one of them.
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For the first time, I saw what was in his heart, and I wondered if he might ever want to look deep enough to see mine.
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I play until my fingers are blue and stiff from the cold, and then I keep on playing. Until I'm lost in the music. Until I am the music--notes and chords, the melody and harmony. It hurts, but it's okay because when I'm the music, I'm not me. Not sad. Not afraid. Not desperate. Not guilty.
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Little by little, the old world crumbled, and not once did the king imagine that some of the pieces might fall on him.
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A new word. Bright with possibilities. A flawless pearl to turn over and over in my hand, then put away for safekeeping.
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Because beautiful things never last. Not roses nor snow… And not fireworks, either
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Sometimes, when you catch someone unaware at just the right time and in just the right light, you can catch sight of what they will be.
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Yeah. Sure. My brother's dead. My mother's insame. Hey, let's have a crepe.
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Who knew that listening to a guy sleep could be so much deeper than sleeping with a guy.
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