Sharon M. Draper Quotes

“Everybody uses words to express themselves. Except me. And I bet most people don’t realize the real power of words. But I do.”

“It’s like I live in a cage with no door and no key. And I have no way to tell someone how to get me out.”

“Talk. I pointed to my board. I hit the word again and again. Talk. Talk. Talk. I have so much to say.”

“Maybe I’m not so different from everyone else after all.”

“I wondered if she would teach able-bodied third graders the same way. Probably not. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.”

“It’s like somebody gave me a puzzle, but I don’t have the box with the picture on it. So I don’t know what the final thing is supposed to look like. I’m not even sure if I have all the pieces . . . Even though I usually know the answer to most of the questions at school, lots of stuff still puzzles me.”

“But slowly, slowly, I felt my body rolling to the right. And then, unbelievably, plop! I was on my stomach. I was so proud of myself, I screeched.”

“Your life is not going to be easy, little Melody . . . If I could switch places with you, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know the NAME of her condition, Doctor . . . But a person is so much more than the name of a diagnosis on a chart!”

“Words have always swirled around me like snowflakes—each one delicate and different, each one melting untouched in my hands.”

“I’m always amazed at how adults assume I can’t hear. They talk about me as if I’m invisible . . . I learn quite a bit this way.”

“I don’t think they get paid very much, because they never stay very long. But they should get a million dollars. What they do is really hard, and I don’t think most folks get that.”

“For the first time, instead of ‘pretend’ grades that teachers would give me because they weren’t quite sure if I knew the answer or not, I get real grades recorded in the teachers’ grade book that are based on actual answers I’ve given. Printed out and everything!”

“I have never spoken one single word. I am almost eleven years old.”

“By the time I was two, all my memories had words, and all my words had meanings. But only in my head. I have never spoken one single word.”

“Sometimes people never even ask my name, like it’s not important or something. It is. My name is Melody.”

“Here’s the thing: I’m ridiculously smart, and I’m pretty sure I have a photographic memory. It’s like I have a camera in my head, and if I see or hear something, I click it, and it stays.”

“All of us who have all our faculties intact are just plain blessed. Melody is able to figure out things, communicate, and manage in a world where nothing works right for her. She’s the one with the true intelligence!”

“I still couldn’t get over the fact that I was part of the team. Okay. Truth. There was the team, and there was me, and we were in the same room. But we weren’t quite a team. They appreciated the fact that I usually got the answers right but . . . lots of the preparation involved fast-and-furious, back-and-forth discussions, and I had trouble adding anything to what was being said—most of the time.”

“We all have disabilities. What’s yours?”

“There’s some stuff I don’t understand about this accident—like why it happened and why Robbie had to die and why I didn’t die. Mama keeps huggin’ me, sayin’, ‘Praise the Lord’ and stuff like that. But what about Robbie’s mama? What is she saying?”

“It’s dark where I am and I cannot find the light. There are shadows all around me and my heart is full of fright.”

“Is it my fault that Robbie is dead? I wasn’t drivin’. I wasn’t even drinkin.”

“Last week I learned that kids my age could die. That was the most frightening experience I ever had. A boy that I knew real well, that sat next to me in study hall, died in a car crash.”

“So why do I feel so guilty? I don’t sleep so good at night. I keep seein’ the fire and hearin’ his screams and feelin’ so helpless. He was too young to die like that. It’s not fair. He never had a chance. Was all this done to teach us kids a lesson? Will it stop us from drinkin’ and drivin’? Maybe—a few.”

“You can’t blame yourself forever, Andy. And if you had died instead of Rob, would you want him to be hurting like you are now?”

“It’s hard for us to understand why things like this happen, and I think you’re doing a remarkable job of handling a very rough situation. You came back to the team, you’re playing well—and we all support you. You know that. Actually, you are the glue that’s holding the team together. Without you, we’d all fall apart.”

“What can I say ? I’m a rose in the snow—the bright spot in your dark, seems-like-it’s-always-depressed life.”

″‘It’s me, brother. Your main man, Roberto. And yes, I’m cold. Very cold. It’s no fun bein’ dead.′ ‘I’m sorry, Rob. You know I didn’t mean to hurt you.’ ‘Understood, my man. But when’re you comin’ to keep me company?‘”

“Last week, there were 400 people in the Senior Class. Today there are 399. One student became a statistic when he lost his life in an accident involving drinking and driving. Usually, statistics don’t mean much, but this statistic had a name, a face, a basketball jersey, and friends.”