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"Well, it seems to me that there are books that tell stories, and then there are books that tell truths... The first kind, they show you life like you want it to be. With villains getting what they deserve and the hero seeing what a fool he's been and marrying the heroine and happy endings and all that... But the second kind, they show you life more like it is... The first kind makes you cheerful and contented, but the second kind shakes you up."
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"Books were this wonderful escape for me because I could open a book and disappear into it, and that was the only way out of that house when I was a kid."
"I agreed on condition that we found a completely new concept that had nothing to do with the latest books."
"I had forgotten what fiction was to me as a boy, forgotten what it was like in the library: fiction was an escape from the intolerable, a doorway into impossibly hospitable worlds where things had rules and could be understood; stories had been a way of learning about life without experiencing it, or perhaps of experiencing it as an eighteenth-century poisoner dealt with poisons, taking them in tiny doses, such that the poisoner could cope with ingesting things that would kill someone who was not inured to them. Sometimes fiction is a way of coping with the poison of the world in a way that lets us survive it."
Explore more quotes by Jennifer Donnelly
"Because I'm on the phone, Mom!''Fooling around with your friends again! Who is that?''Ahmadinejad.''Oh, my goodness! What is he saying?''That he wants to see Jeezy at the Beacon tonight. Putin's going too. He scalped a ticket from Kim Jong Il. All tha gangstas are going.''Don't be so fresh, young man!''Gotta go,' he says to me. 'Enemy forces have dropped a Momshell.''Fall back, solider. Over and out."
"Namaste. It was a Nepalese greeting. It meant: The light within me bows to the light within you."
"Happiness was useless to me. It was heartache that filled my purse. What happy man has need of Shakespeare?"
"And Robespierre, the Incorruptible, who loved us so much he cut off our heads so we would not be troubled by too many thoughts."
"Because in a small dark room, a broken child lies on a filthy bed and stares up at a high window. He waits for me, too.And I-I who have failed at everything and have failed everyone-I must not, I cannot, I will not fail him."
"But eating was the last thing on my mind. And I didn't see how Miss Wilcox could eat, or teach, or sleep or ever find any reason to leave this room. Not with all these books in it, just begging to be read."
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