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Oh my God! said one of the Ambers. Is this not the worst trip ever? Did you see the snow? She was a sharp one, this Amber. What would she notice next? The train? The moon? The hilarious vagaries of human existence? Her own head?
Maureen Johnson
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Maureen Johnson
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 16
Author
Novelist
Writer
Philadelphia
Pennsylvania
Worst
Amber
Head
Hilarious
Existence
Trip
Next
Sharp
Ever
Notice
Human
Snow
Humans
Train
Would
Moon
Vagaries
More quotes by Maureen Johnson
I guess life is full of maybes.
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Walk really, really carefully. It's not complicated, but if you mess up, you'll die, so pay attention.
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This is England, he explained. Tell someone it's a procedure, and they'll believe you. The pointless procedure is one of our great natural resources.
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English rain feels obligatory, like paperwork. It dampens already damn days and slicks the stones.
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It was fine, I said stiffly. We played Mouse Trap. Is that what they're calling it these days? she asked, throwing me a terrible grin. I have to go give Rachel a quick bath. Feel free to make yourself some cocoa or whatever you like! She stopped short of adding ...future child-bride of my only son.
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No one hid their interest when I walked into the room. I'm not sure if it was the news about Boo or my general appearance. At home, people would have asked. People would have been crawling all over me for information. At Wexford, they seemed to extract what they wanted to know by covert staring.
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You're...a demon hunter?' 'It's not as exciting as it sounds,' he said. 'There is a surprising amount of paperwork involved.
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When I worked in theater, I was always writing things on Post-it Notes and sticking them on screens or desks. Twitter has given me a way of continuing to post those notes, only a lot of other people see them, too.
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People always say they can't do things, that they're impossible. They just haven't been creative enough.
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Once again, her parents' problems had run through her life like a piece of heavy equipment, smashing everything in their way.
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This pool is a triumph of imagination. That's how you win at life, Gin. You have to imagine your way through. Never say something can't be done. There's always a solution, even if it's weird.
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Just then, my phone started ringing. The ring must have been damaged by the water as well, so now it had a high, keening note - kind of the sound I imagine a mermaid might make if you punched her in the face.
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Did you hear? he asked. They found another body around nine this morning. It's the Ripper, definitely. Good morning, I replied. Morning. Listen to this. The second victim.
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Dr. Everest, got up and gave us a little pep talk. Mostly it boiled down to the fact that it was autumn, and everyone was back, and while that was a great thing, people better not get cocky or misbehave or he'd personally kill us all. He didn't actually say those words, but that was the subtext.
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I followed your footsteps, he said, in answer to the unspoken question. Snow makes it easy. I had been tracked, like a bear. Sorry to make you go to all that trouble, I said. I didn't have to go that far, really. You're about three streets over. You just kept going in loops. A really inept bear.
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One question, I said. Did you tell me all that because you think I'm going to die? No, he said. It's because you're doing something brave, and I felt I should too. I'll take that as a yes, I said.
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Tell me what you want, what you really, really want, he said. Braiiinnnnssss, we said in unison.
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I have no phobias. Phobias are irrational. My fears are rational and CAREFULLY CULTIVATED, like roses.
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What tinfoil? he asked.
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She was standing in the airport of Copenhagen, staring at a doorway, trying to figure out if it was (a) a bathroom and (b) what kind of bathroom it was. The door merely said H. Was she an H? Was H hers? It could just as easily be his. Or Helicopter Room: Not a Bathroom at All
Maureen Johnson
