J.M. Forster > Quotes

“The violent orange sky bled into the darkening clouds, creating a cluster of purple bruises.”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven About the Author Chapter One Jack was trying hard not to die. One wrong move and he’d lie splattered on the pavement or fried to a crisp by the sun. He knew the risks,”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“She scooted down”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“A deep pain pierced his chest as he struggled to get enough breath into his lungs.”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“A sharp pain radiated along the back of his hand. He inspected the bleeding crack, smearing a droplet of blood with his thumb. His skin was getting worse. Dad would know what to do, but by the time he decided to come home . . . well, anything could have happened.”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“lost my marbles.”
― J M Forster, Bad Hair Days

“The wet tarmac glowed orange from the streetlights.”
― J.M. Forster, Bad Hair Days

“Nobody had a clue where Dad was. And if Mum couldn’t find him, what would happen to his skin? He flopped back onto the pillow and shut his eyes, trying to block the surge of hopelessness that washed over him.”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“impulsive”
― J.M. Forster, Bad Hair Days

“talent.”
― J.M. Forster, Twilight Robbery

“his”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“colour.”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“Jack was trying hard not to die. One wrong move and he’d lie splattered on the pavement or fried to a crisp by the sun. He knew the risks, but the roof was the one place he could taste real freedom.”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“Mum shot him”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“beach”
― J.M. Forster, Bad Hair Days

“In my room later, I placed Gran’s photo in my memory box. Inside were mementos I’d collected over the years: a lock of my real hair in a little see-through bag, birthday cards, holiday souvenirs, a lucky penny and the hair clip Gran had given me for my twelfth birthday, before I’d developed alopecia”
― J.M. Forster, Bad Hair Days

“anti-ageing serum’? What if I was one of them?”
― J.M. Forster, Shadow Jumper

“Chapter Eight Jack shifted his gaze between the packet and Fabien’s pale face, then slowly got to his feet. Go to the police, that was what they should do. Let them deal with it. But what kind of trouble would that land Fabien in? “I’ll sort it.” Jack made his way up to the chimney, stuffed the packet into the black bin liner he found up there, and wedged it between the pots. That would buy them some time to think about how to help Fabien. He returned to the others. Fabien was still looking green and shaky, but was on his feet and putting on his hat. “I’ll help you get down to the street,” said Beth. “It’s okay. I’ll go back through the attic. Grandad will be wondering where I am.” The boy hobbled up the incline, back the way he’d come, and they heard him stagger down the other side. Jack banged his fist against the chimney wall, sending loose cement dust showering onto the tiles. “I wish he’d told me what was going on. I could have helped. I wondered why he wanted me to teach him shadow jumping.” “He’s scared,” said Beth. “Don’t be too hard on him. Kai’s got him where he wants him. It’s Kai you should be angry with, not Fabien.” “Who’s Kai working for?” Jack let out a worried breath. “I mean, he might be a thug, but he’s not got a lot of brains, has he?” Beth pressed her lips together in thought. “You’re right. He can’t be doing this alone.” Jack’s encounter with Kai from a few months ago was inked on his memory like a tattoo. He touched his ribs as if the bruising was still there, but of course the physical injuries were gone. Not so for Fabien, Jack thought, remembering the livid mark blooming on the”
― J.M. Forster, Twilight Robbery