It's so great to be able to write from home. My bread is rising downstairs, and I'm upstairs writing. I have a writing room that my grandchildren consider one of their playrooms. — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
You must not let yourself become too respectable. Keep yourself a little wild. What is life for, if not for the living of it? — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“On a bright Sunday morning in the early years of the last century,” — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“People had no more choice than animals about the burdens they carried.” — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“He knew it was perfect, and perfectly beautiful. He thought about how much she would like it. When he thought like that, happiness swelled… — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“You were going to fall, you always did, but you had to get up fast and keep going.” — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
Even the bad books I write are satisfying. I'm my least critical reader. — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
People can be unimaginably foolish...and they can be unimaginably grand, at times. — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“And so I was. I can put on the cloak of the world I find myself in, however I happen to find myself in… — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“The people they had been last summer, the person she had been--Dicey guessed she'd never be afraid again, not the way she had been… — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“ I felt that the world itself had changed and that it would never be steady under my feet again. I felt I understood… — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
Kids are really tougher than adults, but we tend to forget this in an affluent society that lets kids indulge themselves. — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“Mina thought to herself, watching, her momma was the kind of woman she wanted to be, wherever else she got to in her life.” — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“The No filled the whole air of the house. Every time she breathed in she breathed in that No.” — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
“Mina wanted some of the kind of love Momma gave to her children, where love was the first and deepest thing, and the questions… — Cynthia Voigt Copy Share Image
