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Jessica Johnson
https://www.goodreads.com/mrsjohnson82512
Jessica Johnson
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(page 134 of 384)
"“We all have people we care about, those we would give our lives for. It puts us in danger, or makes us dangerous.”" — Aug 31, 2024 09:48AM
"“We all have people we care about, those we would give our lives for. It puts us in danger, or makes us dangerous.”" — Aug 31, 2024 09:48AM
“Why are you so pissed off?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Sometimes I wondered if Dex actually had any recollection of 90% of the conversations he was involved with.”
― Lying Season
― Lying Season
“You're not the guy at the train station. You're my Blake.”
― Poughkeepsie
― Poughkeepsie
“It was fucking weird. They had gone from a sickening, "in love" couple doing a duet to the complete opposite in the span of two songs. Who knew the Beatles were still so controversial.”
― Lying Season
― Lying Season
“I want Adam to be happy, Kenji, I really do. But he and I would end up like water going nowhere."
"What do you mean...?"
"Water that never moves," I say to him. "It's fine for a little while. You can drink from it and it'll sustain you. But if it sits too long it goes bad. It grows stale. It becomes toxic." I shake my head. "I need waves. I need waterfalls. I want rushing currents.”
―
"What do you mean...?"
"Water that never moves," I say to him. "It's fine for a little while. You can drink from it and it'll sustain you. But if it sits too long it goes bad. It grows stale. It becomes toxic." I shake my head. "I need waves. I need waterfalls. I want rushing currents.”
―
“Another snowball, this time it impacted on my shoulder.
I dusted the snow off my coat with my free hand and gave him the biggest stinkeye I could muster.
“How old are you again? Twelve?”
He grinned, teeth white as the snow he gathered.
“Old enough to make you come, young enough to make you hate me for it.”
“Oh jeez,” I muttered, shaking my head, and turned around.
Bam.
Snowball to the back of my head.”
― Into the Hollow
I dusted the snow off my coat with my free hand and gave him the biggest stinkeye I could muster.
“How old are you again? Twelve?”
He grinned, teeth white as the snow he gathered.
“Old enough to make you come, young enough to make you hate me for it.”
“Oh jeez,” I muttered, shaking my head, and turned around.
Bam.
Snowball to the back of my head.”
― Into the Hollow
Jessica’s 2025 Year in Books
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