I need a boy who thinks with his big head, not his little one. Since they do not exist, I have fashioned my own.
Jennifer DonnellyYou are a ghost, Andi," she says. "Almost gone." I look at her. I want to say something but I can't get the words out. She squeezes my hands. "Come back to us," she says. And she's gone.
Jennifer DonnellyAirports should all belong to the same country. The country of Crappacia. Or Bleakovania. Or Suckitan.
Jennifer DonnellyThe King walks. He nods. His glance is like God's touch - under it all things spring to life. A wave of his hand and a hundred musicians tear into the Handel, making a sound you've never heard before, and never will again. A sound that goes through you, through flesh and bone, and reorders the very beat of your heart.
Jennifer Donnelly