My gut knotted as I wrote from the point of view of characters whose lives were rooted in bigotry and intolerance. But there were also narrators who made my heart soar. Disabling my censor, allowing each character to speak his… — Karen Hesse Copy Share Image
“I have a hunger, for more than food. I have a hunger bigger than Joyce City. I want tongues to tie, and eyes to… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
“Anyway, this time I caught her in the slow stirring of biscuits, her mind on other things, but anyhow, she was distracted enough, I… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
I hear the first drops. Like the tapping of a stranger at the door of a dream, the rain changes everything. — Karen Hesse Copy Share
As long as you live, it is never too late to make amends. Take my advice, child. Don't waste your precious life with regrets… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
And I know now that all the time I was trying to get out of the dust, the fact is, what I am, I… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
“Daddy named me Billie Jo. He wanted a boy. Instead, he got a long legged girl with a wide mouth with cheekbones like bicycle… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
“We might not belong to anyone else in this whole world. But us Faulstiches,we belong to each other.” — Karen Hesse Copy Share
The work of one author or artist may stimulate another author or artist to push the edge, to take the risk, to go where… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
“Apples Ma's apple blossoms have turned to hard green balls. To eat them now, so tart, would turn my mouth inside out, would make… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
I have earned wages as a waitress, a nanny, a librarian, a personnel officer, an agricultural laborer, an advertising secretary, a typesetter, a proofreader,… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
My father and I, we can't soothe each other. I'm too young, he's too old, and we don't know how to talk anymore if… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
When Ma died, I didn't know how to go on, either. I don't know how. I don't feel the same know, not exactly. Now… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
Now Livie's gone west, out of the dust, on her way to California, where the wind takes a rest sometimes. And I'm wondering what… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
I don't know what I am thinking. But I am alone. I am trapped in the net of the room. In the net of… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
“I play songs that have only the pattern of my self in them and you hum along suporting me. You are the companion to… — Karen Hesse Copy Share
