“It is hard to be true to yourself because it is hard to be yourself.” — Jenny Hubbard Coming of age Copy Share Image
“Read to your heart's content. Though if you are a reader, the heart is never content.” — Jenny Hubbard Books Copy Share Image
“She touches her wrist where her watch used to be, her fingers lost without time to hold on to.” — Jenny Hubbard Lost time Copy Share Image
“Because God didn't write the Bible. Men did, probably uneducated ones.” — Jenny Hubbard Bible Copy Share Image
“Until it has scared you with its endlessness, sky is just sky.” — Jenny Hubbard Endlessness Copy Share Image
“You have to stop and freeze the moment," he told me I had told her. "You have to make yourself remember by… — Jenny Hubbard Copy Share Image
“If I were good the way my dad is good, then I wouldn't be filling up these pages. They would be blank,… — Jenny Hubbard Tabula rasa Copy Share Image
“Do you have any idea how hard a story is to write? My brain is jumpy, and my heart doesn't know where… — Jenny Hubbard Copy Share Image
“a closed book is a darkness anyone can enter, not a cary darkness like a basement or a storm, but a comforting… — Jenny Hubbard Books Copy Share Image
“Honor is truth. Truth has many meanings, but it first means that you have to be true to yourself. It is hard… — Jenny Hubbard Honor Copy Share Image
“Reading, she tells me, is what she does best. She loves it because it uses the whole of her, the right and… — Jenny Hubbard Books Copy Share Image
“What I carry in my backpack down to the river, I carry not knowing that in less than an hour Thomas Broughton… — Jenny Hubbard Copy Share Image
“So many options that they're almost overwhelming. Which is why it is sometimes so easy to grab the cliche, to reach out… — Jenny Hubbard Cliche Copy Share Image
“Writing is about making choices, Miss Dovecott says. One word or phrase or title over another. So many options that they're almost… — Jenny Hubbard Making choices Copy Share Image
“Pall-- Oh, yes, she could feel it/even though the bullet/had never stabbed her skin./ The bright white heat/ burned at her core/… — Jenny Hubbard Copy Share Image
“Anthology-- What binds together the moments/of earthly grace? What gathers up/the last white daisy in an amber field;/ a baby bird hatching… — Jenny Hubbard Copy Share Image
“Seed-- The boy I loved/had the veins of the ancient./He was eighteen, but also/a hundred and eighty,/Biblical and stubborn/as stone lodged/in the… — Jenny Hubbard Nature Copy Share Image
