Explore Quotes by Jay Asher

My breathing begins to slow. The tension in my muscles starts to relax. Then, a click in the headphones. A slow breath of air. I open my eyes to bright moonlight. And Hannah, with warmth. Thank you.

Half of them kept repeating my name, trying to get it right, while the other half laughed. But they were harmless. Fun drunks make a nice addition to any party: Not looking to fight. Not looking to score. Just looking to get drunk and laugh. I remember those guys. Like the mascots of the party. "Clay! Whatcha doon here? Bah-ha-ha-ha!

I repeat his words in my head. What's going on? What's going on? Oh, well, since you asked, I got a bunch of tapes in the mail today from a girl who killed herself. Apparently, I had something to do with it. I'm not sure what that is, so I was wondering if I could borrow your Walkman to find out. 'Not much,' I say.

Could be my soul mate / two kindred spirits / Maybe we're not / I guess we'll never / know

Watching those guys pummel each other so no one would suspect them of being weak was too much for me. Their reputations were more important than their faces.

A week went by and nothing. But eventually, as they always will, the rumors reached me. And everyone knows you can't disprove a rumor.

Everything...affects everything

You can't go back to how things were. How you thought they were. All you really have is...now.

If my love were an ocean, there would be no more land. If my love were a desert, you would see only sand. If my love were a star- late at night, only light. And if my love could grow wings, I'd be soaring in flight.

Imagine ten or tweleve orange chairs arrainged in a circle, with the happy woen from the flyer sitting at opposite ends. Only problem was, from day one, they weren't happy. Someone, whoever made that flyer, must have digitally turned their frowns upside down. They wrote about death. About the evilness of men. About the destruction of-and I quote- "the greenish, bluish orb with wisps of white." Seriously, that's how they descibed it. They went on to call Earth a knocked-up gaseous alien needing an abortion.

Fun drunks make a nice addition to any party. Not looking to fight. Not looking to score. Just looking to get drunk and laugh.

A flood of emotions rushes into me. Pain and anger. Sadness and pity. But most surprising of all, hope.

Soul Alone by Hannah Baker I meet your eyes you don't even see me You hardly respond when I whisper hello Could be my soul mate two kindred spirits Maybe we're not I guess we'll never know My own mother you carried me in you Now you see nothing but what I wear People ask you how I'm doing You smile and nod don't let it end there Put me underneath God's sky and know me don't just see me with your eyes Take away this mask of flesh and bone and See me for my soul alone

Sometimes we have thoughts that even we don't understand. Thoughts that aren't even true—that aren't really how we feel—but they're running through our heads anyway because they're interesting to think about.

I wanted people to trust me, despite anything they'd heard. And more than that, I wanted them to know me. Not the stuff they thought they knew about me. No, the real me. I wanted them to get past the rumors. To see beyond the relationships I once had, or maybe still had but that they didn't agree with.

And after I dropped him off, I took the longest possible route home... I explored alleys and hidden roads I never knew existed. I discovered neighborhoods entirely new to me. And finally... I discovered I was sick of this town and everything in it.

When you try rescuing someone and discover they can't be reached, why would you ever throw that back in their face?

Maybe it didn’t seem like a big deal to you Zach. But now, I hope you understand. My world was collapsing. I needed those notes. I needed any hope those notes might have offered. And you? You took that hope away. You decided I didn’t deserve to have it.

A lot of you cared, just not enough.

In the end....everything matters.

Like driving along a bumpy road and losing control of the steering wheel, tossing you—just a tad—off the road. The wheels kick up some dirt, but you're able to pull it back. Yet no matter how hard you try to drive straight, something keeps jerking you to the side. You have so little control over anything anymore. And at some point, the struggle becomes too much—too tiring—and you consider letting go. Allowing tragedy... or whatever... to happen.