Quote

I’ll still be missing you as much as ever. I’l still smile at the memory of you. I’ll still be - Okay, I’ll say it again - loving you, but I won’t abandon myseld for you. I cannot be faithful to you without being faithful to myself.

Jerry Spinelli

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Jerry Spinelli
Age: 83
Born: 1941
Born: February 1
Novelist
Writer
Norristown
Pennsylvania
Cannot
Abandon
Stills
Faithful
Still
Loving
Ever
Memory
Without
Smile
Much
Okay
Missing
Memories

More quotes by Jerry Spinelli

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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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You are truly focused when you're so focused that you don't know you're focused.
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Events become feelings, feelings become events
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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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The blanket was there, but it was the boy's embrace that covered and warmed him.
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Each night I lie down in a graveyard of memories. Moonlight spins a shroud about me.
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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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Nothing’s more fun than being carried away.
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Why fit in when you're born to stand out?
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She's in tenth grade,' he said. 'I hear she's been homeschooled till now.' Maybe that explains it,' I said.
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In that moonlit hour, I acquired a sense of the otherness of things. I liked the feeling the moonlight gave me, as if it wasn't the opposite of day, but its underside, its private side, when the fabulous purred on my snow-white sheet like some dark cat come in from the desert.
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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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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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Nobody has the time, the time cannot be owned. The time is free to everyone
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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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Do not follow me! Let's just be fabulously where we are and who we are. You be you and I'll be me, today and today and today, and let's trust the future to tommorrow. Let the stars keep track of us. Let us ride our own orbits and trust that they will meet. May our reunion be not a finding but a sweet collision of destinies!
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The trouble with miracles is, they don't last long.
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This was the ghetto: where children grow down instead of up.
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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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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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