Quotes by Jennifer Donnelly

I play until my fingers are blue and stiff from the cold, and then I keep on playing. Until Im lost in the music. Until I am the music--notes and chords, the melody and harmony. It hurts, but its okay because when Im the music, Im not me. Not sad. Not afraid. Not desperate. Not guilty.

It has an L on it. L for love. See? Its the key to the universe, Dad. You said you were looking for it. You told Mom you were. I found it for you so you dont have to look anymore. So you can come home at night.

Together in our house, in the firelight, we are the world made small.

I have done this—made the sad prince laugh. Made his grieving parents smile. None but me. Think you only kings have power? Stand on a stage and hold the hearts of men in your hands. Make them laugh with a gesture, cry with a word. Make them love you. And you will know what power is.

Think you only kings have power? Stand on a stage and hold the hearts of men in your hands. Make them laugh with a gesture, cry with a word. Make them love you. And you will know what power is.

Fac quod faciendum est, Jo read aloud. Do what must be done.

Cry your grief to God. Howl to the heavens. Tear your shirt. Your hair. Your flesh. Gouge your eyes. Carve out your heart. And what will you get from Him? Only Silence. Indifference.

Life, Rose well knew, could throw some hard punches at you, but nothing hurt as much as losing a child, or seeing one of your children hurt and suffering. Becoming a parent changed you forever, as nothing else could. Not good or bad fortune. Not friendships. Not even a man or a woman.

Because beautiful things never last. Not roses nor snow… And not fireworks, either

Namaste. It was a Nepalese greeting. It meant: The light within me bows to the light within you.

No sunrises that stop you dead with their unspeakable beuaty, either, he thought. No whales breaching only yards away from the ship, showering your awestruck self with a cold ocean rain. No songs and whiskey belowdecks at night while the wind plucks at the ships rigging and the ice beats against her hull.

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 conjurers daughter, a mad and murderous king.

Because in a small dark room, a broken child lies on a filthy bed and stares up at a high window. He waits for me, too.And I—I who have failed at everything and have failed everyone—I must not, I cannot, I will not fail him.

Sir, no amount of money, no matter how vast, could induce me to stroll, perambulate, promenade, or engage in any form of locomotion with you whatsoever. Good evening.

For mad I may be, but I will never be convenient.

No. I meant stay with me today. And tomorrow. And every day after.

Dont let the darkness thats been visited upon this family pull you in so deeply, you cannot get out. Turn back from it, darling Jo... hed warned her. He didnt seem to understand that turning your back on the darkness didnt mean the darkness would turn its back on you.

Ambition and poverty are powerful motivators...

She smells of her cooking and the perfume Eau dHadrien. My mother wore it, too. She used to cook, like Lili. Our house smelled of garlic and thyme instead of sadness.

You should spend more time reading the Good Book and less reading all those novels. What are you going to tell the Lord on Judgement Day when He asks you why you didnt read your bible?