Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
And concentrating on the spot where the two spindles should be is the closest I get to looking Hannah's eyes as she tells my story.
Because if I hadn't been so afraid of everyone else, I might have told Hannah that someone cared. And Hannah might still be alive.
Every reader is different. There's no book that's inappropriate for every person, but there are people who cannot handle everything.
The main character in the book is usually someone you're identifying with because the story is being told through this person's mind.
A week went by and nothing. But eventually, as they always will, the rumors reached me. And everyone knows you can't disprove a rumor.
And at some point, the struggle becomes too much-too tiring-and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy... or whatever... to happen.
Because I've heard so many stories that I don't know which one is the most popular. But I do know which is the least popular. The truth.
But you can't get away from yourself. You can't decide not to see yourself anymore. You can't decide to turn off the noise in your head.
'Fifty Shades' opened the door and made it easier to write about any issue that's controversial. It has helped other authors talk honestly.
No one knows for certain how much impact they have on the lives of other people. Oftentimes, we have no clue. Yet we push it just the same.
Actually, I love trying to figure out why certain books become hits while others, which may be just as good, have trouble finding an audience.
If we know it's happening, and we're not having the discussion, we're contributing to the problem of making it seem like people can't open up.
But I need to wake up somehow. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s best to get through the day half-asleep. Maybe that’s the only way to get through today.
I take a slow sip of lukewarm coffee, reopen the book, and read the words scribbled in red ink near the top: Everyone needs an olly-olly-oxen-free.
And what about you-the rest of you-did you notice the scars you left behind? No. Probably not. Because most of them can't be seen with the naked eye.
I knew that part of the problem with sensitive issues is that, because they're uncomfortable to address, we have a hard time doing so honestly, if at all.
Watching those guys pummel each other so no one would suspect them of being weak was too much for me. Their reputations were more important than their faces.
Normally when a person has a stellar image another person's waiting in the wings to tear them apart. They're waiting for that one fatal flaw to expose itself.
Maybe you didn't know what people thought of you because they themselves didn't know what they thought of you. Maybe you didn't give us enough to go on, Hannah.
Everything about it was false. Right then, in that office, with the realization that no one knew the truth about my life, my thoughts about the world were shaken.
There are things that aren't supposed to be comfortable to read, because those situations shouldn't be comfortable to discuss, but they still need to be discussed.
When I decided I wanted to become an author, I never thought something I wrote would be used as a way to start conversations that are otherwise difficult to begin.
I didn't humiliate him by pointing it out because that's not how you treat friends. You don't judge them. You don't humiliate them. I bet he's been judging me all along.
With traditional school visits, I also get to speak with people who haven't read my books and talk about my writing process as well as the serious aspects I write about.
You need to figure out what you want, Josh. If that means you need to swim against the tide to get it, at least youre aiming for something that could make you very happy.
When you're being bullied, it can feel like no one cares, and I'm so excited to tell the teens at the schools I visit that I wouldn't be there if their school didn't care.
Here's a tip. If you touch a girl, even as joke, and she pushes you off, leave... her... alone. Don't touch her. Anywhere! Just stop. Your touch does nothing but sicken her.
I thought I was going to be known for my humor. But then I had an idea for a story, which was absolutely not humorous. But, of course, that's the one that sells and becomes big.
Because what if I got to know you and you turned out to be just like they said? What if you weren’t the person I hoped you were? That, more than anything, would have hurt the most.
One of the things I found is that no matter where in the country - poor communities, rich communities - everybody deals with very similar issues of bullying. It's pretty widespread.
I hope you're ready, because I'm about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended. And if you're listening to these tapes, you're one of the reasons why.
The main thing I wanted to say, and thankfully it’s what most people say they get out of the book, is simply an acknowledgement that we do affect each other in ways we can’t predict.
And as I stood there in the hallway―alone―trying to understand what had just happened and why, I realized the truth: I wasn't worth an explanation―not even a reaction. Not in your eyes.
I simply wanted a kiss. I was a freshman girl who had never been kissed. Never. But I liked the boy, he liked me, and I was going to kiss him. That's the story, the whole story, right there.
Do you remember the last thing you said to me? The last thing you did to me? And what was the last thing I said to you? Because trust me when I said it I knew it was the last thing I’d ever say.
I could picture life—school and everything else—continuing on without me. But I could not picture my funeral. Not at all. Mostly because I couldn’t imagine who would attend or what they would say.
My breathing begins to slow. The tension in my muscles starts to relax. Then, a click in the headphones. A slow breath of air. I open my eyes to bright moonlight. And Hannah, with warmth. Thank you.
There's this stress that is relieved when you realize somebody understands, and that's only going to happen if you feel the person who's writing the book or the people in the TV show aren't holding back.
That’s when I said it. That’s when I whispered to her, “I’m so sorry.” Because inside, I felt so happy and sad at the same time. Sad that it took me so long to get there. But happy that we got there together.
Sometimes we have thoughts that even we don't understand. Thoughts that aren't even true—that aren't really how we feel—but they're running through our heads anyway because they're interesting to think about.
I swear, guys in groups are capable of the stupidest things." "Like war," Kellan says, heaping napkins and ketchup packets onto her tray. "And jumping off rooftops." "And lighting their farts on fire," she says.
You told me I wrote that poem because I was afraid of dealing with myself. And I used my mom as an excuse, accusing her of not appreciating or accepting me, when I should have been saying those words into a mirror.
If my love were an ocean, there would be no more land. If my love were a desert, you would see only sand. If my love were a star- late at night, only light. And if my love could grow wings, I'd be soaring in flight.
It seems like whenever a big newspaper or TV show talks about teen literature, they focus on dark books or vampire books. It's kind of this cliche. It seems like the only time adults pay attention is with that angle.
And what if in the future we're at war again, or we still haven't elected a non-white or non-male president, or the Rolling Stones are still dragging their tired old butts on stage? That would depress me way too much.
I really love visiting schools - in fact, that's my favorite part of being an author now - even though I still get stage fright! When I visit schools, I know I'm going to be talking to some kids who don't like to read.
Whenever I'm out late she makes a sandwich for my school lunch. I always protest and tell her not to, saying I'll make my own when I get home. But she likes it. She says it reminds her of when I was younger and needed her.
If time was a string connecting all of your stories, that party would be the point where everything knots up. And that knot keeps growing and growing, getting more and more tangled, dragging the rest of your stories into it.
My friends and I did one of those 'Who's Hot and Who's Not' lists. Every school has those, and now they are online, which makes it even worse. It was one of those moments that I look back on a lot, and think that was horrible.
I was in Las Vegas, and there was a exhibit of King Tut's tomb, and it was an audio tour. At the very end of that, I just thought it would be a really cool structure for a novel, but I just didn't have a story to go along with it.