My head is killing me, my throat is killing me, my stomach bubbles with toxic waste. I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid if this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind.
Laurie Halse AndersonI am learning how to be angry and sad and lonely and joyful and excited and afraid and happy.
Laurie Halse AndersonShe offered herself to the big, bad wolf and didn't scream when he took the first bite.
Laurie Halse AndersonOur teachers need a snow day. They look unusually pale. The men aren't shaving carefully and the women never remove their boots. They suffer some sort of teacherflu. Their noses drip, their eyes are rimmed with red. They come to school long enough to infect the staff room then go home sick when the sub shows up.
Laurie Halse AndersonIn one universe, they are gorgeous, straight-teethed, long-legged, wrapped in designer fashions, and given sport cars on their sixteenth birthdays, Teachers smile at them and grade them on the curve. They know the first names of the staff. They are the pride of the school.
In Universe #2, they throw parties wild enough to attract college students. They worship stink of Eau de Jocque. They rent beach houses in Cancun during Spring Break and get group-rate abortions before the prom.
But they are so cute. And they cheer on our boys, inciting them to violence and, we hope, victory. They’re are our role models- the Girls Who Have It All. I bet none of them ever stutter or screw up or feel like their brains are dissolving into marshmallow fluff.
Censorship is the child of fear and the father of ignorance.
Laurie Halse AndersonTags: books censorship ideas banned-books intellectual-freedom banned-books-week freedom-to-read
I am a gluttonous, gorging failure. A waste. My body isn’t used to high-sugar carbs laced with witchcraft. It can barely cope with soup and crackers.
Laurie Halse AndersonI’m the girl who trips on the dance floor and can’t find her way to the exit. All eyes on me.
Laurie Halse AndersonA breath of steam trickles out, filled with the sobs of a grown woman breaking into girl-sized pieces.
Laurie Halse AndersonThey yell at me because I can’t see what they see. Nobody can explain to me why my eyes work different than theirs. Nobody can make it stop.
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