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Maybe probably ain’t all that comforting a word when it’s maybe yer not dying.

Patrick Ness

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Patrick Ness
Age: 53
Born: 1971
Born: October 17
Author
Journalist
Literary Critic
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Fairfax
Virginia
Comforting
Dying
Probably
Maybe
Word

More quotes by Patrick Ness

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I was only following orders, the Mayor mocks. The refuge of scoundrels since the dawn of time.
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Faith with proof is no faith at all.
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HERE It’s- Can I say? It’s like the song of a family where everything’s always all right, it’s a song of belonging that makes you belong just by hearing it, it’s a song that’ll always take care of you and never leave you. If you have a heart, it breaks, if you have a heart that’s broken, it fixes.
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Know yourself and go in swinging, if it hurts when you hit, it might be real, too.
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A thing worth learning is worth learning well.
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I don’t know what’s ahead,” I say. “I don’t know nothing about nothing but whatever it is, it’s gotta be better than what’s behind. It’s gotta be.
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If a crowd can flinch, they flinch. More than a thousand men flinch under the fist of just one. I don't see what the women do.
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And here was a man who lived on belief, but who sacrificed it at the first challenge, right when he needed it most
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And the pain is too much it's too much it's too much and my hands are on my head and I'm rearing back and my mouth is open in a never-ending wordless wail of all the blackness that's inside me. And i fall back into it.
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The justifications of men who kill should always be heard with skepticism, said the monster.
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Do you not wonder sometimes, she showed now, sadly, if in some ways they are correct? That we are asking too much of the world?No, he said. They're the ones who are asking for too little.
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Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect.
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The sound when we crash is so loud it's almost impossible.
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But,' he thinks, 'it's possible to die before you die.
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Time goes on, even when yer not looking.
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Her accent's funny, different from mine, different from anyone in Prentisstown's. Her lips make different kinds of outlines for the letters, like they're swooping down on them from above, pushing them into shape, telling them what to say. In Prentisstown, everyone talks like they're sneaking up on their words, ready to club them from behind.
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We can save the world, I say, trying to smile. You and me.
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A man is capable of thought. A crowd is not.
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Here is the boy, drowning.
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That's the thing I'm learning about being thrown out on yer own. Nobody does nothing for you. If you don't change it, it don't get changed.
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