Quote

You can never visit the same place twice. Each time, it's a different story. By the very act of coming back, you wipe out what came before.

Maureen Johnson

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Maureen Johnson
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 16
Author
Novelist
Writer
Philadelphia
Pennsylvania
Story
Place
Stories
Back
Wipe
Book
Visit
Different
Twice
Never
Coming
Time
Came

More quotes by Maureen Johnson

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What are you? I asked. I'm the Ghost of the Night Before Exams. And how long did it take you to come up with that? Jazza asked. I'm a busy man, he replied.
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With that, I splashed some water on my face, fixed on a smile, and stepped out. I would find Jerome. I would make him explain to me what I was missing. We would laugh, then we would kiss with tongue, and all would be well.
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I feel warm and reassured, I whispered. He's like Santa.
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Sometimes artist like to catch themselves looking out, let the world see them for once. It's a signature. This one is a very bold one. But this is also a witnessing. We want to remember, and we want to be remembered. That's why we paint.
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We study there a lot because... what other choice does society give us, right? It's Starbucks or death, sometimes.
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Well, what now? You have no job. I have no job. Wanna play Jenga?
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Debbie had to get up and slice me a thick piece of cake before she could answer. And I do mean thick. Harry Potter volume seven thick. I could have knocked out a burglar with this piece of cake. Once I tasted it, though, it seemed just the right size.
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It was almost funny. Life seemed downright accidental in its brevity, and death a punch line to a lousy joke.
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I had one class in the morning, the mysteriously named Further Maths. It was two hours long and so deeply frightening that I think I went into a trance.
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I may have been a complete lunatic, but I was a complete lunatic with manners.
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One person's crazy is another person's sane, I guess.
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They weren't pressed together as closely as normal, but his shoulder bumped hers, then remained there. It was very subtle, and possibly even accidental, but it was enough.
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Something about her suggested that her leisure activities included wrestling large woodland animals and banging bricks together.
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Prefects. I had learned this one. Student council types, but with superpowers. They who must be obeyed.
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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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The essay I had to read was called, An Essay on Criticism by Alexander Pope. The first challenge was that the essay was, in fact, a very long poem in heroic couplets. If something is called an essay, it should be an essay.
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I still have a whopping bad case of what you call scag magnetism. I thought i had gotten rid of it there, but it looks like scary guys still materialize from thin air in my presence. They are drawn to me. I am the North Pole, and they are the explorers of love.
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I try to shake it loose-but these ideas, they cling. It's like I'm shackled to them with an iron chain. They rattle along behind me, dragging against the ground, always reminding me of their presence.
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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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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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