I know it is a bad thing to break a promise, but I think now that it is a worse thing to let a promise break you.
Jennifer DonnellyStichwörter: promises
Right now I want a word that describes the feeling that you get--a cold sick feeling, deep down inside--when you know something is happening that will change you, and you don't want it to, but you can't stop it. And you know, for the first time, for the very first time, that there will now be a before and an after, a was and a will be. And that you will never again quite be the same person you were.
Jennifer DonnellyStichwörter: change
Lots of things are true. Doesn't mean you have to go around saying them.
Jennifer DonnellyI listened as the words became sentences and the sentences became pages and the pages became feelings and voices and places and people.
Jennifer DonnellyCripes Miss Wilcox, they're not guns,' I said.
No, they're not Mattie, they're books. And a hundred times more dangerous.
You should spend more time reading the Good Book and less reading all those novels. What are you going to tell the Lord on Judgement Day when He asks you why you didn't read your bible? Hmm?"
I will tell Him that His press agents could have done with a writing lesson or two, I said. To myself.
Stichwörter: humor honesty writing
What I saw next stopped me dead in my tracks. Books. Not just one or two dozen, but hundreds of them. In crates. In piles on the floor. In bookcases that stretched from floor to ceiling and lined the entire room. I turned around and around in a slow circle, feeling as if I'd just stumbled into Ali Baba's cave. I was breathless, close to tears, and positively dizzy with greed.
Jennifer DonnellyStichwörter: books library readers
A new word. Bright with possibilities. A flawless pearl to turn over and over in my hand, then put away for safekeeping.
Jennifer DonnellyAs I nodded and smiled and umm-hmm'd and oh, my'd my way down the drive, I wondered if boys had any sort of magazine that told them how to attract women and, if so, did it ever tell them to put the girls' interests first?
Jennifer DonnellyMy father had put these things on the table.
I looked at him standing by the sink. He was washing his hands, splashing water on his face. My mamma left us. My brother, too. And now my feckless, reckless uncle had as well. My pa stayed, though. My pa always stayed.
I looked at him. And saw the sweat stains on his shirt. And his big, scarred hands. And his dirty, weary face. I remembered how, lying in my bed a few nights before, I had looked forward to showing him my uncle's money. To telling him I was leaving.
And I was so ashamed.
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