Sometimes being an adult means doing the right thing, even if it’s not what you want.
When life sucks, read. They can’t yell at you for that. And if they do, then you can ignore them.
Grandma frowned and yelled something in Russian. She could have been saying, ‘Open up, your best friend is here.’ On the other hand, it could have been, ‘America is a great country because of canned ravioli.
When you’re alive, people can hurt you. It’s easier to crawl into a bone cage or a snowdrift of confusion. It’s easier to lock everybody out. But it’s a lie.
She turns to us, acts surprised to see us, then does the bit with the back of the hand to the forehead. “You’re lost!” “You’re angry!” “You’re in the wrong school!” “You’re in the wrong country!” “You’re on the wrong planet!
I have ten bucks in my pocket – what to spend it on? French fries – ten dollars’ worth of french fries, ultimate fantasy.
I keep thinking that if I could just unzip my skin, step out of this body, then I would see who I really am.
There is a beast in my gut, I can hear it scraping away at the inside of my ribs. Even if I dump the memory, it will stay with me, staining me. My closest is a good thing, a quiet place that helps me hold these thoughts inside my head where no one can hear them.
The bruises are vivid, but they will fade.
I am an iceberg drifting toward the edge of the map.
Had she ever enjoyed anything? Had every day been a struggle? Perhaps death would be a release, a rest for the weary.
Shut your trap, button your lip, can it. All that crap you hear on TV about communication and expressing feelings is a lie.
I handed my tools. The two of them reached down to help me out of the crater I’d dug. ″Isn’t that a little deep?″ Yoda asked. ″It’ll help the roots get established,″ I explained. ″Established where? China?
Pie makes everybody happy.
In the spring of fifth grade, the boob fairy arrived with her wand and smacked Cassie wicked hard.
One of the seeds has split its shell and reaches a white hand upward. An apple tree growing from an apple seed growing in an apple. I show the little plantseed to Ms. Keen. She gives me extra credit. David rolls his eyes. Biology is so cool.
Maybe I’ll be an artist if I grow up.
I kissed him until everything that hurt inside me melted into a pool of black water so deep I couldn’t touch the bottom. As long as I was touching him, I wouldn’t drown.
I have gotten one question repeatedly from young men. These are guys who liked the book, but they are honestly confused. They ask me why Melinda was so upset about being raped.
Ghosts are waiting in the shadows of the room, patient dull shimmers. The others can see them, too, I know it. We’re all afraid to talk about what stares at us from the dark.