Avi Quotes

It all depends on you. If you want it to be different,it will be different. Don't look at the world with your eyes but with your heart.

A sailor chooses the wind that takes the ship from a safe port. Ah, yes, but once you're abroad, as you have seen, winds have a mind of their own. Be careful, Charlotte, careful of the wind you choose.

It seems to me that you won't have had a proper series of adventures, unless you've gone through thick and thin.

I want my readers to feel, to think, sometimes to laugh. But most of all I want them to enjoy a good read.

I think you become a writer when you stop writing for yourself or your teachers and start thinking about readers.

A sailor may choose the wind to ride out of seaport, but the wind has a mind of it's own.

There are those who'd rob a blind man of his eyelashes if they could.

There is a limit to how much a seer wishes to see.

People are freer in America. But there are more tears.

The cure for unhappiness...It's this: What a person needs is always more than they say.

The more men see of the world, the bigger their hearts

For heaven's sake, don't write writing. Write reading!

I try to write about complex issues--young people in an adult world-- full of irony and contradiction in a narrative style that relies heavily on suspense with a texture rich in emotion and imagery. I take a great deal of satisfaction in using popular forms-- the adventure, the mystery, the thriller-- so as to hold my reader with the sheer pleasure of a good story. At the same time I try to resolve my books with an ambiguity that compels engagement. In short, I want my readers to feel, to think, sometimes to laugh. But most of all I want them to enjoy a good read.

Let's agree then . . . if you're about to come to a conclusion, you'll head off in another direction. You might even find your own voice.

I took a deep breath. 'For you I've got something better than love.' What's that?' I...trust you.' Why?' You'll never hurt me.' Thank you.' But...' But, what?' I said, 'That means I'll hurt you.' Why?' 'Cause, like I said, you'll never hurt me back.

I kept asking myself if I felt different, if I was different. The answer was always yes. I was no longer nothing… How odd, I thought; it had taken my mother’s death, Father Quinel’s murder, and the desire of others to kill me to claim a life of my own.

Now give me a kiss, say you love me and off you go." "Sure, Aunt Lu," I said, and I gave her the kiss she wanted. Then I ran out and caught my bus. I didn't say I loved her. I guess I did. But asking someone to say they love you--and she always asked--is like buying yourself a birthday present. It's more than likely exactly what you want. But it must make you feel awfully sad to get it.

All I can think is that when you torment a person...the soul dies. When the soul dies, I suppose mercy dies, too.