Meg Rosoff
Meg Rosoff
Meg Rosoff is an American writer based in London, United Kingdom. She is best known for the novel How I Live Now, which won the Guardian Prize, Printz Award, and Branford Boase Award and made the Whitbread Awards shortlist. Her second novel, Just in Casewon the annual Carnegie Medal from the British librarians recognising the year's best children's book published in the U.K...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionWriter
CountryUnited States of America
love-you lucky-charms mad
I love you. I'm madly in love with you. Well, madly obviously, given I'm mad as a mudlark. But you saved my life. I'd be dead without you. And you're so good to me. And you love me too. How lucky is that? Amazing! Amazingly lucky. I can't live without you. You're my lucky charm." She felt a sudden desire to kill Justin's well-meaning friend.
dog cake creative
While working in advertising, I channelled my creative energy into elaborate escape fantasies: cake making, dog breeding, the Peace Corps.
waste saint has-beens
I didn't seem to have that effect on anyone but it would have been a waste for both of us to be saints.
scared ghost frightened
I frightened myself. I became the ghost Piper was so scared of.
player tennis comedian
Ask any comedian, tennis player, chef. Timing is everything.
night differences barns
I guess the difference between Gin and me is that when Gin got shut in the barn she thought Edmond didn't love her anymore but because I could feel Edmond out there somewhere always loving me I didn't have to howl all night.
hate voice people
The facts of his existence are plain. I know that he will never silence those unspeakable voices. He heard how people killed, and how they died and their voices infected him, coursed through his body, poisoned him. He didn't know how to turn off the noise, or turn the hate back out onto the world like the rest of us. He turned it on himself. You could see that from the scars on him.
dog imaginary persons
I can't even trust my own imaginary dog. How much lower can a person get?
anchors years brain
I'm a century old, an impossible age, and my brain has no anchor in the present. Instead it drifts, nearly always to the same shore. Today, as most days, it is 1962. The year I discovered love.
dear-life happenings happens
Things Happen and once they start happening you pretty much just to hold on for dear life and see where they drop you when they stop.
heart hands fire
It's not that he lacked poetry. But his poetry was of the body, not the mind. He spoke it in the way he moved, the way he held a hammer, rowed a boat, built a fire. I, on the other hand, was like a brain in a box, a beating heart in a coal scuttle.
responsibility tree accepted
it was love, of course, though I didn't know it then and Finn was both its subject and object. He accepted love instinctively, without responsibility or conditions, like a wild thing glimpsed through trees.
heart persistence boys
Such a courageous boy I was. To act brazenly under scrutiny and risk further injury to my wounded heart. Ah, the resilience, the blind, dumb persistence of youth.
sea swim leap
I felt a momentary urge to leap into the sea and swim free of the present.