Jay Asher Quotes

If my love were an ocean, there would be no more land. If my love were a desert, you would see only sand. If my love were a star- late at night, only light. And if my love could grow wings, I'd be soaring in flight.

The main thing I wanted to say, and thankfully it’s what most people say they get out of the book, is simply an acknowledgement that we do affect each other in ways we can’t predict.

No one knows for certain how much impact they have on the lives of other people. Oftentimes, we have no clue. Yet we push it just the same.

You can hear rumors. But you can't know them.

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

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.

I've always loved brainstorming with other writers, and I consider having my work critiqued a part of that brainstorming.

I didn't feel physically sick. But mentally. My mind was twisting in so many ways. (...) We once saw a documentary on migraines. One of the men interviewed used to fall on his knees and bang his head against the floor, over and over during attacks. This diverted the pain from deep inside his brain, where he couldn't reach it, to a pain outside that he had control over.

I wanted people to trust me, despite anything they'd heard. And more than that, I wanted them to know me. Not the stuff they thought they knew about me. No, the real me. I wanted them to get past the rumors. To see beyond the relationships I once had, or maybe still had but that they didn't agree with.

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.

And what about you-the rest of you-did you notice the scars you left behind? No. Probably not. Because most of them can't be seen with the naked eye.

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

You can't go back to how things were. How you thought they were. All you really have is...now.

Did the poet use red to symbolize blood? Anger? Lust? Or is the wheelbarrow simply red because red sounded better than black?

Everything...affects everything

In the end....everything matters.

After all, how often do we get a second chance?

If I had a chance with him, I missed it. No, I didn't miss it. I threw it away.

I needed a break... from myself.

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.

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.

The road to publication is like a churro - long and bumpy, but sweet.

I want to collapse. I want to fall on the sidewalk right there and drag myself to the ivy.

A lot of you cared, just not enough.

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?

I hope you're ready, because I'm about to tell you the story of my life. More specifically, why my life ended. And if you're listening to these tapes, you're one of the reasons why.

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

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

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.

But sometimes there’s nothing left to do but move on.

Whenever I'm out late she makes a sandwich for my school lunch. I always protest and tell her not to, saying I'll make my own when I get home. But she likes it. She says it reminds her of when I was younger and needed her.

I take a slow sip of lukewarm coffee, reopen the book, and read the words scribbled in red ink near the top: Everyone needs an olly-olly-oxen-free.

I'm listening to someone give up. Someone I knew—someone I liked. I'm listening... but still, I'm too late.

Two steps behind her, I say her name. "Skye.

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

Watching those guys pummel each other so no one would suspect them of being weak was too much for me. Their reputations were more important than their faces.

This time, for the first time, I saw the possibilities in giving up. I even found hope in it.

It's hard to be disappointed when what you expected turns out to be true.

One little ripple started today could create a typhoon fifteen years from now.

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.

They were like two magnets who couldn't decide whether to attract or repel.

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.

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.

When the right moment appears, the key is to not let it pass.

Will I ever get control of my life? Will I always be shoved back and pushed around by those I trust?

I want to look back. To look over my shoulder and see the Stop sign with huge reflective letters, pleading with Hannah. Stop!

And in high school, people are always watching so there's always a reason to pose.

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.

How many times had I let myself connect with someone only to have it thrown back in my face?

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