Deb Caletti Quotes

When I was a young mother at home with a two year old and a five year old, living on the Eastside in one of those neighborhoods where all the houses look the same, where all the cars look the same and the lawns look the same, I was writing in secret.

The loneliness you feel with another person, the wrong person, is the loneliest of all.

Things that came apart could be put together again, but never exactly the same.

This is what happens when nice people are pushed too far. We give too many chances, and so when we’ve finally had enough, we are well and truly done. When a nice person shuts a door on you, it’s shut for good.

Becoming a YA author was actually a very lucky accident. When I wrote the ‘Queen of Everything,’ I thought it was a book for adults.

I wrote one book, signed with a good agent, and sat back and waited for the phone to ring. I was sure that the great news would come at any moment. Four books later, I finally got that call.

The scariest part of forever is that nothing is.

That’s what people do who love you. They put their arms around you and love you when you’re not so lovable.

I long for books; I am utterly greedy about them.

You never know how – or when – the idea for a book will appear.

I would eat fruitcake if there’d been a nuclear war and I’d run out of canned goods.

I became a writer because I love books, and I believe in their power.

Anyway, madness and genius. They’re the disturbed pals of the human condition. The Bonnie and Clyde, the Thelma and Louise, the baking soda and vinegar. Insanity just walks alongside the brilliant like some creepy, insistent shadow.

‘The Nature of Jade’ is about a girl who works with the elephants at the zoo near her home, and who, through her involvement with them, becomes involved with a boy and his baby.

It’s a simple truth that a secret is something you’re ashamed of.

My most memorable teacher was Rich Campe, my third-grade teacher at Fairlands Elementary in Pleasanton, California.

People are secretive when they have secrets.

You’ve got to have someone who loves your body. Who doesn’t define you, but sees you. Who loves what he sees. Who you don’t have to struggle to be good enough for.

To an untrained eye, need and love were as easily mistaken for each other as the real master’s painting and a forgery.

Sometimes I’ve even wished there was a human pause button, where you could choose some point in your life where you could stay always.

I always say that, for me, writing a book is like a wacky Greyhound bus trip – I know where I’m starting and where I’ll end up, but I have no idea what will happen along the way.

Marriage is like a well-built porch. If one of the two posts leans too much, the porch collapses. So each must be strong enough to stand on its own.

Although I love snow, it messes things up terribly around Seattle, with all of our hills. I worry about my loved ones driving.

In a lifetime, the recipe always needs amending – more of this, a little less of that, what to do now that the cake has fallen.

All of us create our own versions of an event, of our lives, even, not because were liars, necessarily, but because we can only see and understand the truth from our own viewpoint, and a shifting viewpoint at that.

Often, marriage was solitude, with company.

We can get so wrapped up in our own misconceptions that we miss the simple beauty of the truth.

All of us create our own versions of an event, of our lives, even, not because we’re liars, necessarily, but because we can only see and understand the truth from our own viewpoint, and a shifting viewpoint at that.

You have ordinary moments and ordinary moments and more ordinary moments, and then, suddenly, there is something monumental right there. You have past and future colliding in the present, your own personal Big Bang, and nothing will ever be the same.

Writers are troubled about finding time to write and writer’s block and publicizing books that aren’t books yet. They agonize over how to write and what to write and what not to write.

I understood right from the start that every set of library doors were the sort of magic portals that lead to other lands. My God, right within reach there were dinosaurs and planets and presidents and girl detectives!

I’ve never met a popcorn ball I didn’t like.

I was a book lover from the beginning. I loved, love, words and images and ideas, the ways a book can make you feel things deeply or help you understand something you never even knew there were words for.

It’s human nature to want to help and soothe and save with your love, but it’s also arrogant.