Quotes by Jay Asher

Sometimes we have thoughts that even we don’t understand. Thoughts that aren’t even true—that aren’t really how we feel—but they’re running through our heads anyway because they’re interesting to think about.If you could hear other people’s thoughts, you’d overhear things that are true as well as things that are completely random. And you wouldn’t know one from the other. It’d drive you insane. What’s true? What’s not? A million ideas, but what do they mean?

I needed a break...from myself.

A lot of you cared, just not enough.

Everything...affects everything

Suicide. Its something Ive been thinking about. Not too seriously, but I have been thinking about it.” Thats the note. Word for word. And I know its word for word because I wrote it dozens of times before delivering it. Id write it, throw it away, write it, crumple it up, throw it away.But why was I writing it to begin with? I asked myself that question every time I printed the words onto a new sheet of paper. Why was I writing this note? It was a lie. I hadnt been thinking about it. Not really. Not in detail. The thought would come into my head and Id push it away.But I pushed it away a lot.

Right then, in that office, with the realization that no one knew the truth about my life, my thoughts about the world were shaken. 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 tightly you grip the wheel, 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.

I decided to find out how people at school might react if one of the students never came back.

What if you werent the person I hoped you were?That, more than anything, would have hurt the most.

Thats what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where youre not sure what the poets talking about. You may have an idea, but you cant be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings.

That girl had two chances. And both of us let her down.

Put meunderneath Gods sky and know medont just look at me with your eyesTake awaythis mask of flesh and bone andsee me for my soulalone

But you cant get away from yourself. You cant decide not to see yourself anymore. You cant decide to turn off the noise in your head.

We almost bumped into each other. But your eyes were down so you didnt know it was me. And together we said it. Im sorry.Then you looked up. You saw me. And there, in your eyes, what was it? Sadness? Pain? You moved around and tried pushing your hair away from your face. Your fingernails were painted dark blue. I watched you walk down the long stretch of hallway. I stood there and watched you disappear. Forever.

Sometimes, theres no one around to tell you to be quiet... to be very, very quiet. Sometimes you need to be quiet when youre all alone.

I simply wanted a kiss. I was a freshman girl who had never been kissed. Never. But I liked the boy, he liked me, and I was going to kiss him. Thats the story, the whole story, right there.

I was so anxious about what kind of kiss it would be-because my friends back home described so many types-and it turned out to be the beautiful kind. You didnt shove your tongue down my throat. You didnt grab my butt. We just held our lips together...and kissed.

Unanswered? I wouldve answered any question, Hannah. But you never asked.

But now it’s too late.And that’s why, right at this moment, I feel so much hate. Toward myself. I deserve to be on this list. Because if I hadn’t been so afraid of everyone else, I might have told Hannah that someone cared. And Hannah might still be alive.I pull my gaze back from the neon sign.

Sierra, its Christmastime. Put a stupid mistletoe over his head and kiss him already!

Emma:“He broke your heart! How can you call it love when hehurt you so badly?”Kellan:“It was lovebecause it was worth it.