I wonder why we always deny love. I remember in middle school, if you were accused of the crime of loving, you screamed denials constantly and stopped ever even looking at the boy you were accused of liking. The boys could destroy each other by yodeling, "An-drew lo-oves Jen-nie," and both Andrew and Jennie would flinch and blush. Love is this great thing that most songs and books and poems and lives are all about. So the minute we actually think there might be love around, we start laughing and pretending and hiding from it.
Caroline B. CooneyStephen had just come from a class discussion in which several students believed that the right cup of herbal tea would save them from pain and sorrow. Well acquainted with pain and sorrow, Stephen did not contribute to the discussion. He merely crossed these idiots off his list of possible friends.
Caroline B. CooneyI love writing and do not know why it is considered such a difficult, agonizing profession.
Caroline B. CooneyPeople nearly always believe, and are willing to back it up with weapons and cruelty, that their religion and way of life is better than the other person's
Caroline B. Cooney