You’re never too old for teddy bears, Dawn. You’re just too young for cancer.
Everybody dies; that’s a fact. Sometimes it blindsides people. Sometimes people get a glimpse of the big picture and decide to cheat.
People can’t help the way they look, just the way they act.
By using novels, I show ordinary kids confronting and overcoming great odds.
When you’re up against a superior enemy, sometimes it’s okay to just bow out gracefully.
She did know that the journey to happiness was laborious and strewn with seeds of suffering. She guessed that it was probably a place each person had to seek for herself, that each heart had to find on its own.
Forgiving’s a choice you make – a gift you give to somebody even if they don’t deserve it. It costs nothing, but it makes you feel rich for giving it away.
For as long as the world spins and the earth is green with new wood, she will lie in this box and not in my arms.
In truth, I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to see the light go out of my brother’s eyes.
I’ll cover you in flowers someday, Julie-girl.
The stems stood tall and straight, one series arranged in a single line, the other in a crudely shaped heart, the final one in the shape of the letter U. I love you.
I think that hurting gives us a way to measure being happy. How can you know one without knowing the other.
So long as one person remembers you, you’ll never really be dead.
Nobody gets to pick what life gives them.
On TV, stories and events are finalized in 30 or 60 minutes, or neatly tied up after a season or two. The best stories are the ones that force us to come to our own conclusions and to explain why we believe in our conclusions.
Love is patient and trusting; it doesn’t hold a grudge when somebody hurts you, and most of all, it endures.
I’d draw a picture of an army of teddy bears charging out to fight these green, gloppy looking blobs. My teddy bears would be riding white horses and carrying long lances like knights of the Round Table.” She started giggling at the thought of Mr. Ruggers leading a brigade of pandas, potbellies, and fuzzy-wuzzies in her defense.
Next year, when you return, you’ll bring the ashes back and toss them onto that year’s bonfire. In this way, each of us comes back to this place, bringing some of the past, leaving with some of the future.
It can be scary facing the unknown.
He’s at the library, I think. Safe and sound in his world of books... Maybe he’ll write one someday.