Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Maureen Johnson

Quote by Maureen Johnson

Work

Let It Snow: Three Holiday Stories

This book presents three separate but linked romantic tales that unfold over a single snowy Christmas Eve in a small town. The stories, written by three different authors, follow various teenagers whose paths cross as a blizzard disrupts travel and holiday plans. Each narrative explores themes of chance encounters, young love, and the magic of the holiday season, with the snowstorm serving as a unifying backdrop that forces characters to come together in unexpected ways. The collection is known for its lighthearted, festive tone and its focus on the serendipitous connections that can occur during winter holidays. more

Author

Maureen Johnson
Maureen Johnson

Maureen Johnson is an American author born on February 16, 1973. She is known for her works in young adult literature and mystery novels, which have gained her a wide readership. more

You May Also Like

“The first thing you notice about New Orleans are the burying grounds - the cemeteries - and they're a cold proposition, one of the best things there are here. Going by, you try to be as quiet as possible, better to let them sleep. Greek, Roman, sepulchres- palatial mausoleums made to order, phantomesque, signs and symbols of hidden decay - ghosts of women and men who have sinned and who've died and are now living in tombs. The past doesn't pass away so quickly here. You could be dead for a long time”

“I got the sexton, who was digging Linton's grave, to remove the earth off her coffin lid, and I opened it. I thought, once, I would have stayed there, when I saw her face again - it is hers yet - he had hard work to stir me; but he said it would change, if the air blew on it.”

“My boy, you shall be everything in the world, animal, vegetable, mineral, protista, or virus, for all I care-before I have done with you-but you will have to trust my superior backsight. The time is not yet ripe for you to be a hawk... so you may as well sit down for the moment and learn to be a human being.”

“Papa sat with me tonight. He brought the accordion down and sat close to where Max used to sit. I often look at his fingers and face when he plays. the accordion breathes. There are lines on his cheeks. They look drawn on, and for some reason, when I see them, I want to cry. It is not for any sadness or pride. I just like the way they move and change. Sometimes I think my papa is an accordion. When he looks at me and smiles and breathes, I hear the notes.”

“The point is, I can’t tell you how to succeed. But I can tell you how not to: Give in to the shame of being rejected and put your manuscript—or painting, song, voice, dance moves, [insert passion here]—in the coffin that is your bedside drawer and close it for good. I guarantee you that it won’t take you anywhere. Or you could do what this writer did: Give in to your obsession instead.”