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Each night I lie down in a graveyard of memories. Moonlight spins a shroud about me.

Jerry Spinelli

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Jerry Spinelli
Age: 83
Born: 1941
Born: February 1
Novelist
Writer
Norristown
Pennsylvania
Moonlight
Memories
Lying
Night
Shroud
Spins
Shrouds
Graveyard

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Live today like there's no tomorrow!
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We long to be found, hoping our searchers have not given up and gone home.
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His smile was so wide he’d have had to break it into sections to fit it through a doorway
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I became a children's author by accident.
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Did I ever tell you my pet peeve?' No,' I said. People who dress up their pets to look like Little Lord Fauntleroys or cowboys, clowns, ballerinas. As if it's not enough just to be a dog or cat or turtle.
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Be very, very careful not to let the facts get mixed up with the truth.
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Hey, this is it—right now!—the time when you find out who you are and what you can do. And how will you ever know if you don't try new stuff?
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And the more you love someone, the safer it is to be mad at them. Love can handle mad, no problem.
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How much better might human communication be if words were as precious as diamonds? If each of us were allotted only 100 words per day?
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When bad things turn good, the reason can usually be found in the human heart—sometimes in the hearts of great masses of people, sometimes in the heart of a solitary soul.
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I didn't realize we were being watched. We were all being watched
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They don't live here. They live in Heaven.' Where's that?' I don't know,' I said. 'Enos says it's right here, on this side of the wall, but I never saw an angel over here. Kuba says it's in Russia. Olek says Washington America.' What's Washington America?' Enos says it's a place with no wall and no lice and lots of potatoes.
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The blanket was there, but it was the boy's embrace that covered and warmed him.
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We were awash in tiny attentions. Small gestures, words, empathies thought to be extinct came to life... We discovered the color of each other's eyes.
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Every name is real. That's the nature of names.
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Why fit in when you're born to stand out?
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I went to Gettysburg College, where the famous Civil War battle was fought. I majored in English. I would've liked to major in writing, but they didn't offer a major in that.
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I think of the flower in the bud: huddled, compressed, dark. Yet somehow it feels the night, knows moon from sun. It waits...waits.
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