Sharon M. Draper

“She talked to me like I was just like any other student, not a kid in a wheelchair.”

“The class laughed. I can tell the difference between people making fun of us and people being nice to us.”

“By the way, there is nothing cute about a pink wheelchair. Pink doesn't change a thing.”

“[A] person is so much more than the name of a diagnosis on a chart.”

“I believe in me. And my family does. And Mrs. V. It's the rest of the world I'm not so sure of.”

“What would you do if you could fly?" Mrs. V asks as she glances from the bird to me. "Is that on the quiz?" I ask, grinning as I type."I think we've studied just about everything else." Mrs. V chuckles."I'd be scared to let go," I type."Afraid you'd fall?" she asks."No. Afraid it would feel so good, I'd just fly away.”

“Words have always swirled around me like snowflakes-each one delicate and different, each one melting untouched in my hands.”

“Words.I’m surrounded by thousands of words. Maybe millions. Cathedral. Mayonnaise. Pomegranate.Mississippi. Neapolitan. Hippopotamus.Silky. Terrifying. Iridescent.Tickle. Sneeze. Wish. Worry.Words have always swirled around me like snowflakes—each one delicate and different, each one melting untouched in my hands.Deep within me, words pile up in huge drifts. Mountains of phrases and sentences and connected ideas. Clever expressions. Jokes. Love songs.From the time I was really little—maybe just a few months old—words were like sweet, liquid gifts, and I drank them like lemonade. I could almost taste them. They made my jumbled thoughts and feelings have substance. My parents have always blanketed me with conversation. They chattered and babbled. They verbalized and vocalized. My father sang to me. My mother whispered her strength into my ear.Every word my parents spoke to me or about me I absorbed and kept and remembered. All of them.I have no idea how I untangled the complicated process of words and thought, but it happened quickly and naturally. By the time I was two, all my memories had words, and all my words had meanings.But only in my head.I have never spoken one single word. I am almost eleven years old.”

“I believe in the goodness of people, sir, and the power of young folks like us to overcome what grown-ups like you might not be able to.―Sylvia Patterson”

“Down to the 23rd page of double dutch!”

“One series of notes, high and delicate, sang of a sweet moonlight kiss gone sour; another line of music rippled with regret over opportunities forever lost.”

“(Don't take life as a ADVANTAGE take it SERIOUSLY because it's not a game)”

“But I'll always love you, and I'll always miss you and I'll never forget that It's okay to put dragons in the jungle and tears on a tiger”

“Do not let anyone stop you from succeding”

“Go ahead and cry, Andy. Don't be afraid of those tears. Sometimes they help to wash the soul clean.”

“Who Am I? I’m a creator, a visionary, a poet. I approach the world with the eyes of an artist, the ears of a musician, and the soul of a writer. I see rainbows where others see only rain, and possibilities when others see only problems. I love spring flowers, summer’s heat on my body, and the beauty of the dying leaves in the fall. Classical music, art museums, and ballet are sources of inspiration, as well as blues music and dim cafes. I love to write; words flow easily from my fingertips, and my heart beats rapidly with excitement as an idea becomes a reality on the paper in front of me. I smile often, laugh easily, and I weep at pain and cruelty. I'm a learner and a seeker of knowledge, and I try to take my readers along on my journey. I am passionate about what I do. I learned to dream through reading, learned to create dreams through writing, and learned to develop dreamers through teaching. I shall always be a dreamer. Come dream with me.”

“Do you know what courage is? I guess you don't. Do you know that the courage it took at that moment - to actually blow yourself away - was more than enough courage to keep on living?”

“What's right isn't always popular, and whats popular isn't always right.”

“Mom "I can' read and the school might be open in three weaks”