Jay Asher Quotes

And concentrating on the spot where the two spindles should be is the closest I get to looking Hannah's eyes as she tells my story.

I sat. And I thought. And the more I thought, connecting the events in my life, the more my heart collapsed.

It was love because it was worth it.

Why does it say she has three hundred and twenty friends?" Josh asks. "Who has that many friends?

I’m sorry.” Once again, those were the words. And now, anytime someone says I’m sorry, I’m going to think of her.

But I need to wake up somehow. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s best to get through the day half-asleep. Maybe that’s the only way to get through today.

Personally, I never understood the power of having books written about your experience - whatever that experience may be - until I wrote one and started hearing from teens. I just got an email from a reader who said that "Thirteen Reasons Why" was the first time they had felt understood. A book shouldn't be anybody's first time feeling understood and that's where censorship bothers me. These books need to be out there.

That's why you did it. You wanted your world to collapse around you. You wanted everything to get as dark as possible.

You don't need to watch out for me, Clay." But I did, Hannah. And I wanted to. I could have helped you. But when I tried, you pushed me away. I can almost hear Hannah's voice speaking my nest thought for me. "Then why didn't you try harder?

Everything...affects everything

A week went by and nothing. But eventually, as they always will, the rumors reached me. And everyone knows you can't disprove a rumor.

Because I've heard so many stories that I don't know which one is the most popular. But I do know which is the least popular. The truth.

What the hell happened to Pluto?!

Because when you're posed, you know someone's watching. You put on your very best smile. You let your sweetest personality shine.

Josh will begin disappearing into a future where the only place he and I remain friends is on the Internet.

Fun drunks make a nice addition to any party. Not looking to fight. Not looking to score. Just looking to get drunk and laugh.

And here he is again, yet things feel like they'll never be as easy between us as they once were.

When you try rescuing someone and discover they can't be reached, why would you ever throw that back in their face?

I’m going to be mentally ill in fifteen years, and that’s why my husband doesn’t want to be around me.

You can't stop the future You can't rewind the past The only way to learn the secret ...is to press play.

Like driving along a bumpy road and losing control of the steering wheel, tossing you—just a tad—off the road. The wheels kick up some dirt, but you're able to pull it back. Yet no matter how hard you try to drive straight, something keeps jerking you to the side. You have so little control over anything anymore. And at some point, the struggle becomes too much—too tiring—and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy... or whatever... to happen.

But you can't get away from yourself. You can't decide not to see yourself anymore. You can't decide to turn off the noise in your head.

You don’t know what goes on in anyone’s life but your own. And when you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re not messing with just that part. Unfortunately, you can’t be that precise and selective. When you mess with one part of a person’s life, you’re messing with their entire life. Everything. . . affects everything.

Stories about sensitive issues like sex, drugs or sexual assault, suicide and teen drinking, are often censored because people just don't want to talk about those things. It's not that these things don't happen, but when they're shared in a fictional setting, for some reason they make some people uncomfortable.

When you hold people up for ridicule, you have to take responsibility when other people act on it.

You don't know what goes on in anyone's life but your own.

That is all that happened. Why did you hear something else?

We all know the sound a camera makes when it snaps a picture. Even some of the digitals do it for nostalgia’s sake.

Normally when a person has a stellar image another person's waiting in the wings to tear them apart. They're waiting for that one fatal flaw to expose itself.

Because what if I got to know you and you turned out to be just like they said? What if you weren’t the person I hoped you were? That, more than anything, would have hurt the most.

Actually, I love trying to figure out why certain books become hits while others, which may be just as good, have trouble finding an audience.

This was not a spurr-of-the-moment decision. Do not take me for granted... again.

Maybe it's not as important to you as it was for me, but that's not for you to decide.

A lot of you cared, just not enough.

I left. When I should have stayed.

Here's a tip. If you touch a girl, even as joke, and she pushes you off, leave... her... alone. Don't touch her. Anywhere! Just stop. Your touch does nothing but sicken her.

The Golden Rule will always be good advice!

You need to figure out what you want, Josh. If that means you need to swim against the tide to get it, at least youre aiming for something that could make you very happy.

He looks out into the empty street, allowing me to sit in his car and just miss her. To miss her each time I pull in a breath of air. To miss her with a heart that feels so cold by itself, but warm when thoughts of her flow through me.

I didn't humiliate him by pointing it out because that's not how you treat friends. You don't judge them. You don't humiliate them. I bet he's been judging me all along.

And as I stood there in the hallway―alone―trying to understand what had just happened and why, I realized the truth: I wasn't worth an explanation―not even a reaction. Not in your eyes.

And at some point, the struggle becomes too much-too tiring-and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy... or whatever... to happen.

Maybe you didn't know what people thought of you because they themselves didn't know what they thought of you. Maybe you didn't give us enough to go on, Hannah.

The longer you wait, and this is true, the slower the hands will move.

Because no, I didn’t push her away. I didn’t add to her pain or do anything to hurt her. Instead, I left her alone in that room. The only person who might’ve been able to reach out and save her from herself. To pull her back from wherever she was heading. I did what she asked and I left. When I should have stayed.

That’s what i love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff were your not sure what the poets talking about. You may have an idea, but you cant be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings. Is it a stand-in ―a symbol for another idea? Does it fit into a larger, more hidden, metaphor? ...I hated poetry until someone showed me how to appreciate it. He told me to see poetry as a puzzle. Its up to the reader to decipher the code, or the words, based on everything they know about life and emotions.

Every reader is different. There's no book that's inappropriate for every person, but there are people who cannot handle everything.

I don't know exactly what it is, but it looks like interconnected websites where people show their photos and write about everything going on in their lives, like whether they found a parking spot or what they ate for breakfast." "But why?" Josh asks.