Jaclyn Moriarty

“Sure and you've got to keep your own spitis up, for there's no one else will do that for you!”

“I've been sniffing out the guys in my English class (to the extent that this is possible without getting my throat cut), but they smell the same way they always do: like feet and testicles. As opposed to freesias. I don't want to keep sniffing them, Lyd. - Letter from Seb to Lyd.”

“THERE IS A GAS LEAK IN THE BASEMENT OF THE SCHOOL. THERE IS NO NEED TO PANIC. IT IS JUST A GAS LEAK WHICH MAY LEAD TO AN EXPLOSION AT ANY MOMENT. PLEASE ALL GO TO THE OVAL, AS PER THE FIRE DRILLS. -Charlie on the P.A.”

“P.P.S. AND YOU CAN TALK. "Just say the word." JUST SAY THE WORD? What kind of expression is that? WHAT WORD WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SAY ANYWAY? MORON?Letter from Emily to Charles.”

“My father, I never knew, except for this one time when he threw a ball and told me to go fetch it."Dad," I said. "Am I a dog?""Lydia," he said. "I apologize.”

“...Her parents were going to a conference for the weekend. The conference was called "Lawyers are Lovely, Great and Superb: so Why Does Everyone Think that They are Liars, Greedy and Scum?" and Mr Thomson was doing a speech called "Ten Tips to Make Lawyers as Popular as Doctors.”

“You're making me nervous by being so weird. But your weirdness is what I like about you.”

“Well, first you have to be very, very funny. I have realized that it is essential for a boy to be funny. Otherwise, what is the point in a boy?”

“Brookfield High School. How may I direct your call? No, sir, this is not a waste- disposal unit, I'm afraid you have the wrong number.”

“It's a lot easier to be crazy or mad than to just get on with living.”

“I am a student of love.”

“There was plenty of green light left in that orange light Em.”

“and if we can changethings that havealready happenedif those planes can fly inuneasy formationif that splinter mooncan blow away the shadowsthen anything,anything at all.”

“Dear Amelia,I hear there are giant jellyfish in the Arctic,tentacles longer than train carriages.Haystacks fly over cities in whirlwinds, and fish frogs and turtles rain on towns.There are spaces of perfect nothing that they call black holes.Nothing's impossible- that's what you think I'm trying to say.But I'm not.There are things that are impossible - unimaginable even- and here they are: That I broke you.Betrayed you.Said I'd given up on you. Sent you flying to a park in a thunderstorm.That I've been wrong about you all along- saw something in your face each time you faded to your past, when the opposite was true.That all this time you've been lost and that I won't get a second chance to find you.Amelia your name is a song. It's a name you can't say without smiling or crying, without casting both shadows and light. But there are too many places to hide or get lost in a name like Amelia.So this is me shouting that name. They say nobody ever escapes from a black hole. They don't know the strength in my Amelia. The strength in your grip when you want to stay out dancing- the strength in your wicked smile.Riley”

“And she looks at me with her eyes open wide and a face that says: Oh my God, I'm muckin' around in my sexy Jesus-boots, in my crazy dreamworld, and I've opened the door and let you in on my crazy dreamworld and that's so embarrassing but, actually, who cares? because it's funny.”

“When she got back from taking Cassie to school Fancy knew that she ought to be working on her wilderness romance. She had promised thirty thousand words to her editor by tomorrow, and she had only written eleven. Specifically: His rhinoceros smelled like a poppadom: sweaty, salty, strange and strong.Her editor would cut that line.”

“Are you sure you want me to go after Christina? Lately I've kind of thought I might just give up on that. Plus, didn't you and I need to gaze into each other's eyes first? How will I know how to gaze at Christina? And my pebble kicking? Disaster.”

“I hope you feel better today. Please ring me at work if you are dead.”

“I'm screwed up, mixed up, messed around, dive-bombing, crashing and burning.”

“Emily: YOU CAN'T SPEAK AND TYPE AT THE SAME TIME, BINDY!Bindy: Watch me.”

“I saw your name in lights last night.It's the middle of the night,and I can't sleep,thinking all my trumpeting thoughts,and I get out of bed,open the curtains,and look into the night full of stars,and you know what I saw?Your name.Like the stars joined up and spelled the word for me.Like a sign.”

“As if Riley and Amelia were lions, and we were a menage a trois of lively, prancing deer.”

“She's always getting into trouble because she gets bored really really easily. [...]My mum says it's because Celia has an attention span the size of a sesame seed. Celia's mum says it's because Celia's identity is unfurling itself slowly, like a tulip bud, and it's a breathtakingly beautiful thing to see.”

“What does it mean?" Emily said, in a low, panicked voice: "What does it mean if a rainbow comes before rain?”

“I never saw anything like it. He was like the bit in the movie where Tom Cruise is a lawyer and he's decided he's really going to win this case, for the sake of justice and the American way, and that? And it's suddenly like bang-bang-bang—grabbing files off shelves and slamming them down on the desk and punching numbers in the telephone and shaking out the phone cord dramatically , and you know, snapping out instructions to all the assistants around the desk, like: "Get me all the phone records of the President of the United States for the last fifty years," and "Get me the names of every client who ever ate a banana," and "Let's get some Chinese take-out up here, on the double!”

“It's a vicious cycle. It's like a washing machine with the lid jammed down. -Christina Kratovac (pg 53)”

“Dear Complete and Utter Stranger,The first thing that I have to say is that I hate oatmeal. I really hate it. And you know what? If you like oatmeal at all? I mean even the tiniest bit? I mean, say you were lost in the Himalayas, right, and you hadn't eaten anything except a Mars Bar for about seven years, right, and you're really cold and your fingers are all dropping off, right, and you look behind this rock, and there's this bowl of oatmeal? Say you would even think about eating the oatmeal?Well, JUST DON'T BOTHER WRITING TO ME, OKAY?”

“I was just peeling some potatoes for dinner and they all looked like crisp white potatoes until I cut them in half. Every single one had a rotten, gray core. [. . .] I feel like the whole world is black, rotting, and evil. Even when it looks crisp on the outside, that's a lie, because you can't trust anything - on the inside it's nothing like mold. [. . .] So, see, nothing good is ever going to happen, and anyone who says it is, is lying to you.”

“Emily said ... Well, I read that it's important to sleep. While you sleep, the hippopotamus in your brain replays things that happend during the day, e.g. what you studied. So therefore it remembers it for you.”

“I love her bare legs from a distance. When she's standing by a pool. When she's facing the water, thinking. Her legs are white as watermelon rind, veined blue from cold. There's that 'H' shape behind her knees. The H trembles softly with the swimming-water cold.”

“Her skin is pale as watermelon sucked free of its juices.”

“The Irish people didn't get on that well with each other either. They hated the Catholics, was the main issue, as I see. You can't blame them for that. If I understand correctly, Catholics do not believe in contraception. So, you know, sex is not relaxing.”

“3:12 pm Secretly, I admit, I find many of my classmates annoying. I've often thought to myself, 'Good grief, these people are five-year-olds. Why must I spend my days among them?' But have I ever said such things aloud? No. I have been nothing but generous to them, and kept these thoughts to myself. And how have they repaid me? Have they been grateful or kind? Ho NO!”

“...a choice had to be made when your husband said something unkind. Specifically: be cruel, be strong, or sulk. 'Be cruel' by saying an unkind thing back. 'Be strong' by choosing not to mind. But to do this, you have to use up a piece of your love. You have to shave off enough of the love to forgive. After a while, the piece might grow back, but sometimes not. And if you shave off all the soft curves, you'll be left with a sharp-edged love. 'Sulk' by sulking. Sulking is simply delaying the choice to be cruel or strong.”