Quote

I need to finish this scarf/shawl/blanket thing so I can start something for Emma- a hat, maybe, or a sweater for her stuffed elephant.

Laurie Halse Anderson

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Laurie Halse Anderson
Age: 63
Born: 1961
Born: October 23
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Laurie Beth Halse
Start
Stuffed
Need
Sweaters
Elephant
Needs
Blanket
Shawl
Thing
Elephants
Scarf
Something
Hats
Scarves
Finish
Sweater
Maybe
Emma

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I believe that you've created a metaphorical universe in which you can express your darkest fears. In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves, and sometimes we do such a good job, we lose track of reality.
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Art without emotion its like chocolate cake without sugar. It makes you gag.
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Gym should be illegal. It's humiliating.
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Oppressive bastards, think they own the place. I told them that karma's going to kick their asses.
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Emma hears me come up the stairs and asks me to watch a movie with her. I stick Band-Aids on my weeping cuts, put on pink pajamas so we match, and snuggle with her under her rainbow comforter. She arranges all of her stuffed animals around us in a circle, everyone facing the TV, then presses play...Ghosts dare not enter here.
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I scared myself, because once you've thought long and hard enough about doing something that is colossally stupid, you feel like you've actually done it, and then you're never quite sure what your limits are.
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Each reader has to find her or his own message within a book.
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Apologies mean nothing if you don't mean it.
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I live in the borderlands. The word ghost sounds like memory. The word therapy means exorcism. My visions echo and multiplymultiply. I don't know how to figure out what they mean. I can't tell where they start or if they will end. But I know this. If they shrink my head any more, or float me away on an ocean of pills, I will never return.
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Nicole can do anything that involves a ball and whistle.
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I am angry that I starved my brain and that I sat shivering in my bed at night instead of dancing or reading poetry or eating ice cream or kissing a boy.
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I shake my head. I pick up the rake and start making the dead-leaf pile neater. A blister pops and stains the rake handle like a tear. Dad nods and walks to the Jeep, keys jangling in his fingers. A mockingbird lands on a low oak branch and scolds me. I rake the leaves out of my throat. Me: Can you buy some seeds? Flower seeds?
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We've fallen down on our responsibility to our children by somehow creating this world where they're surrounded by images of sexuality and yet, we as adults struggle to talk to kids honestly about sex, the rules of dignity and consent.
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When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You'd be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside—walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It's the saddest thing I know.
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He says a million things without saying a word. I have never heard a more eloquent silence.
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I was good at digging holes. It was the rest of life I sucked at.
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Why are you being so mean? Friends tell friends the truth. yeah, but not to hurt, to help.
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This is where you can find your soul if you dare. Where you can touch that part of you that you've never dared look at before. Do not come here and ask me to show you how to draw a face. Ask me to help you find the wind.
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I'm the only one sitting alone, under the glowing neon sign which reads, Complete and Total Loser, Not Quite Sane. Stay Away. Do Not Feed.
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Mr. Freeman: You are getting better at this, but it's not good enough. This looks like a tree,but it is an average, ordinary, everyday, boring tree. Breathe life into it. Make it bend - trees are flexible, so they don't snap. Scar it, give it a twisted branch - perfect trees don't exist. Nothing is perfect. Flaws are interesting. Be the tree.
Laurie Halse Anderson