On those nights, the words were for me alone. They came up unbidden from my heart. They spilled over my tongue and spilled out my mouth. And because of them, I, who was nothing and nobody, was a prince of Denmark, a maid of Verona, a queen of Egypt. I was a sour misanthrope, a beetling hypocrite, a conjurer's daughter, a mad and murderous king.
Jennifer DonnellyAnd Robespierre, the Incorruptible, who loved us so much he cut off our heads so we would not be troubled by too many thoughts.
Jennifer DonnellyVoice is not just the sound that comes from your throat, but the feelings that come from your words.
Jennifer DonnellyDNA tells you all the secrets of life,โ he used to say. Except for oneโhow to live it.
Jennifer Donnelly