Michael Grant Quotes

“Mr. Albert? Mr. Albert?” Harley said.“Just Albert’s fine,” Albert said tersely.“Me and Janice are thirsty.”“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any water on me.” He managed a tight smile and moved on. But now Janice was crying and Harley was pleading.“We used to live with Mary and she gave us water. But now we have to live with Summer and BeeBee and they said we have to have money.”“Then I guess you’d better earn some money,” Albert said. He tried to soften it, tried not to sound harsh, but he had a lot on his mind and it came out sounding mean. Now Harley started to cry, too.“If you’re thirsty, stop crying,” Albert snapped. “What do you think tears are made of?”

“Oh, dear God!” Janice bellowed and looked as though her neck was made of rubber as her head wobbled back and forth. Lou set the book back on the credenza as Janice stormed out. “Ashton, I’m sorry you had to witness that. As you well know, Mom has never been a pleasant woman. Since coming to live here, she’s been a nightmare on two legs. I’ve had her head examined, and there’s no tumor or disease to explain her behavior. The neurologist and our family doctor have simply diagnosed her as a chronic jackass.”

“Anne tried to bite her tongue, but she was finding her mouth bloody too often.”

“But you see, that's the gilded prison of fashion. We're riding in private jets, and meantime I was so incredibly, painfully sad and lonely.”

“I have a very vivid imagination.”

“Strength in peace. Strength in love. Always.”

“There is no work-life balance. We have one life. What's most important is that you be awake for it.”

“Healthy ChoicesHold stillKeep quiet.Get a degree to learn how to talksaying nothing.Catch a good manby being demure.the one your mother chooses.Let him climb youwhenever his urge,amidst headachesand menstrual achesand screaming infants.And when he bidsquick, turn over.Hold still.Make your tonguea slab of cementa white stone etchedwith your name.Kill your stories with knivesand knitting needlesand Clorox bleach.Hide in your mysteriousnessby saying nothing.Starch your thoughtswith ironed shirts.Tie your angerwith a knot inyour throatand when he comeswithout concernswallow it.Hold still.Keep desirehopeless as iceand sleepless nightsand painful as pinched eyelid.Keep your fingersfrom the razor,keep your longingto severhis condescensionsafely in your douchbag.Turn the bladeagainst yourself.Don't twitchas your slashed wristsstain your bathroom tiles.Disinfect with Pine Sol.Hold still. Keep quiet.Keep tight your lips,keep dead your dreams,keep cold your heart.Keep quiet.And he will shoutpraisesto yourperfection.”

“Always take the scenic route.”

“Peace is everyone’s birthright.”