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Kissing is something that makes up for a lot of other crap you have to put up with...It can be confusing and weird and awkward, but sometimes it just makes you melt and forget everything that is going on.

Maureen Johnson

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Maureen Johnson
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 16
Author
Novelist
Writer
Philadelphia
Pennsylvania
Weird
Kissing
Forget
Makes
Everything
Melt
Sometimes
Confusing
Going
Awkward
Something
Crap

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Can I tell you something you really don't want to hear? He's going to break up with you. - Stuart
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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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Do you ever sing in the car? Generally not. But I am driving a police car. I think people would like a singing policeman. Makes life seem more like a musical. Like Foot-tastic. You can talk for a long time about nothing. I certainly can, you charming man!
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Tired, but not the kind of tired that sleep fixes.
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I knew it was beautiful, but knowing something is beautiful and caring about it are two very different things, and I didn't care.
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Guilt isn't always a rational thing, Clio realized. Guilt is a weight that will crush you whether you deserve it or not.
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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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Well, what now? You have no job. I have no job. Wanna play Jenga?
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I feel warm and reassured, I whispered. He's like Santa.
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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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And if we get caught, I will claim I made you go. At gunpoint. I am American. People will assume I'm armed.
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The kids I talk to are readers, and the craziest, the most dedicated readers you will ever see.
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English rain feels obligatory, like paperwork. It dampens already damn days and slicks the stones.
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Spicy food and I have a close relationship—an obsessive one, in fact. If it’s spicy, I want it. I want to sweat and shake and go half blind from the searing pain . . . which, now that I put it that way, seems really suggestive. But spicy stuff is addictive. That’s a known fact of science.
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Before I take you into the beating heart of the story, let’s get one thing out of the way. I know from experience that when it comes up later, it will distract you so much that you won’t be able to concentrate on anything else I will tell you. My name is Jubilee Dougal. Take a moment and let it sink in.
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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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Walk really, really carefully. It's not complicated, but if you mess up, you'll die, so pay attention.
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She firmly held the theory that everyone gets at least one very stupid superpower.
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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
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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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