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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.

Jennifer Donnelly

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Jennifer Donnelly
Age: 55
Born: 1969
Born: August 29
Author
Novelist
Writer
Port Chester
New York
Body
Stays
Ground
Inside
Forever
Gone
Doesn
Part

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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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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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Never take what's offered, always ask for more.
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Funny, 'ow you can 'old a jewel in your 'and, and toss it away, and not even know what you 'ad until it's gone.
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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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There is a ghost here. A lonely, heartbroken spirit. The ghost of everything that could've been and never was.
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Only the hopeless love God.
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He loves the sparkling fountains and their cascades and says the strangest things as he watches them. they look like stars breaking. Or, They look like Mama's diamonds. Or, They look like all the souls in heaven.
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He pressed himself into me and kissed my neck, and it was as if everything strong and solid inside me, heart and bones and muscle and gut, softened and melted from the heat of him.
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She was everything he wanted from his life, the very measure of his dreams.
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Because beautiful things never last. Not roses nor snow… And not fireworks, either
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It is hope, not despair, that undoes us all.
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History is a Rorschach test, people. What you see when you look at it tells you as much about yourself as it does about the past.
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There were times when I lifted my face to the sky, stretched my arms wide to the winter night, and laughed out loud, so happy was I. The memory of it makes me laugh now, but not from happiness. Be careful what you show the world. You never know when the wolf is watching.
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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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You can't argue with the dead, no matter what you say, they always have the last word.
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The King walks. He nods. His glance is like God's touch - under it all things spring to life. A wave of his hand and a hundred musicians tear into the Handel, making a sound you've never heard before, and never will again. A sound that goes through you, through flesh and bone, and reorders the very beat of your heart.
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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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Hope is the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard.
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