Quote

So, he said, we ourselves will be the candle flames. He put his hands on his chest. Feel your hearts, how warm they are.

Jerry Spinelli

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Jerry Spinelli
Age: 83
Born: 1941
Born: February 1
Novelist
Writer
Norristown
Pennsylvania
Warm
Hearts
Hands
Feel
Feels
Chest
Heart
Chests
Candle
Flames

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You occupied my space. But because you were not in my present, when I looked into my future I saw . . . nothing. Isn't that sad? And stupid?
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Who are you if you lose your favorite person? Can you lose your favorite person without losing yourself? I reach for Stargirl and she's gone. I'm not me anymore.
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Nobody has the time, the time cannot be owned. The time is free to everyone
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She taught me to revel. She taught me to wonder. She taught me to laugh. My sense of humor had always measured up to everyone else's but timid introverted me, I showed it sparingly: I was a smiler. In her presence I threw back my head and laughed out loud for the first time in my life
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Because life doesn't always happen according to a timetable or calendar. And feelings can't be scheduled.
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Each night I lie down in a graveyard of memories. Moonlight spins a shroud about me.
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I felt alone on the planet, drifting through the cosmos. With both hands I reached out to the night. There was no answer. Or maybe I just couldn't hear it.
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Where were we? she said. Getting credit, I said. What about it? Well, it's nice to get credit. The spokes of her rear wheel spun behind the curtain of her long skirt. She looked like a photograph from a hundred years ago. She turned her wide eyes on me. Is it? she said.
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You haven't lived until you've basked in the adoration of people.
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You are what you are Which is what? I wondered
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Events become feelings, feelings become events
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The kids who leave their favorite authors behind do not in fact leave us utterly abandoned, but in due time drive children of their own to the bookstore and the post office.
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We live in a silent explosion, Everything is flying away from everything else... flying away... flying away...
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This was the ghetto: where children grow down instead of up.
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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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We wanted to define her, to wrap her up as we did each other, but we could not seem to get past weird and strange and goofy. Her ways knocked us off balance.
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Her smile put the sunflower to shame.
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I grabbed her, right there outside the lunch room in the swarming mob. I didn't care if others were watching. In fact, i hoped they were. I grabbed her and squeezed her. I had never been so happy and so proud in my life.
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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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Write what you care about. If you do that, you stand the best chance of doing your best writing.
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