Katherine Applegate Quotes

Memories are precious ... they help tell us who we are.

I like colorful tales with black beginnings and stormy middles and cloudless blue-sky endings. But any story will do.

Yes," he said. "You were strong. You were brave. You were good. You mattered.

You can't have real pain without real love. You can't feel grief and loss and hurt without real love. Love is the only way you can ever be really hurt deep down.

Humans waste words. They toss them like banana peels and leave them to rot. Everyone knows the peels are the best part.

They think I'm too old to cause trouble. Old age is a powerful disguise.

Homework, I have discovered, involves a sharp pencil and thick books and long sighs.

It's hard to put into words. Gorillas are not complainers. We're dreamers, poets, philosophers, nap takers.

A good zoo," Stella said, "is a large domain. A wild cage. A safe place to be. It has room to roam and humans who don't hurt." She pauses, considering her words. "A good zoo is how humans make amends.

Humans. Sometimes they make chimps look smart.

I always tell the truth, Stella replies. Although I sometimes confuse the facts.

Imaginary friends are like books. We're created, we're enjoyed, we're dog-eared and creased, and then we're tucked away until we're needed again.

Her eyes hold the pale moon in them, the way a still pond holds stars.

Is there anything sweeter than the touch of another as she pulls a dead bug from your fur?

Right now I would give all the yogurt raisins in all the world for a heart made of ice.

Human can surprise you sometimes. An unpredictable species, Homo sapiens

The names are mine, but they're not me.

With enough time, you can get used to almost anything.

it's never to late to be what you might have been

Earth is the crossroads of every possible alien. We're the McDonald's next to the highway of the galaxy.

Different languages, different food, different customs. That's our neighborhood: wild and tangled and colorful. Like the best kind of garden.

Humans speak too much. They chatter like chimps, crowding the world with their noise even when they have nothing to say.

Love is alcohol.

When I'm drawing a picture, I feel...quiet inside.

And oh, god, how could so much regret and so much sweetness and so much sadness all be present in that single moment. I was already dead and missing my unlived life. I was already dead and Tobias was mourning. I tried to smile. For him.

And that's how we ended up discovering the evil horses that threatened all of humanity.

It is a great gift indeed to love who you are.

Tobias asked. "Weird? Weird?" Marco crowed. "The talking bird wants to know if getting information on the location of an alien from a whale, that you've just saved from sharks, by turning into dolphins . . . You're suggesting that's weird?

I was born in a place humans call central Africa, in a dense rain forest so beautiful, no crayons could ever do it justice.

Give me liberty or give me death.' A human named Patrick Henry said that. I wonder if the Yeerks knew before they came to conquer Earth that humans said things like that. I wonder if the Yeerks knew what they were getting into." -Aximili Esgarrouth Isthill

Death's gruesome face taunts: soulless eyes, crimson grimace. I really hate clowns.

But hunger, like food, comes in many shapes and colors.

Oh, I'm sure we could talk them into letting us in for nothing," Marco said. "Just tell them we're Animorphs." "Tell them we're what?" Rachel asked. "Idiot teenagers with a death wish," Marco said. "Animorphs." I tried the word out. It sounded okay.

Full emergency power to the engines. Ram the Blade ship.

Growing up gorilla is just like any other kind of growing up. You make mistakes. You play. You learn. You do it all over again.

You do not know me, but I am a juvenile delinquent. I do not trust authority figures, I probably will not graduate from high school, and statistics say my present rowdiness and vandalism will likely lead to more serious crimes. I am a dangerous fellow, and I am causing mayhem in this store. [...] There. I have now shamelessly destroyed the symmetry of this shelf, undoing hours of labor by underpaid store employees. If you could see me, you would be frightened.

People don’t understand the word ruthless. They think it means ‘mean.’ It’s not about being mean. It’s about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It’s about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it.

It's OAT-freaking-MEAL!

Humans. Violent but peace-loving. Passionate but cerebral. Humane but cruel. Impulsive but calculating. Generous but selfish. Humans. Altogether a contradictory and deeply flawed species. And yet...And yet, somehow I knew that they represented the best hope of the galaxy. Perhaps the only hope.

Oh, it's just a trash can. Chill out." (Marco) BAM! BAM! BAM! "Okay, so it's four trash cans," (Marco) " BAM! BAM! BAM! "Do you hate trash cans? Is that your problem? Do you just HATE TRASH CANS?!!" (Jake)

Making others feel safe is a fine way to spend your days.

When you forgive, you lose your anger, and when you lose your anger, you get weak. And when you're weak, you can get hurt all over again.

Romance Make eye contact. Show your form. Strut. Grunt. Throw a stick. Grunt some more. Make some moves. Romance is hard work. It looks easy on TV. I'm not sure I will ever get the hang of it.

Humans. Rats have bigger hearts. Roaches have kinder souls. Flies have-

Ninety percent of the trouble in this world comes from guys who think they have something to prove.

About chocolate: "This is what laughing tastes like.

Everyone has parents. It's unavoidable.

But mostly, I remembered what I’ve always believed. What my mom taught me. That while some things are just plain awful, most things in life can be seen either tragic or comic. And it’s your choice. Is life a big, long, tiresome slog from sadness to regret to guilt to resentment to self-pity? Or is life weird, outrageous, bizarre, ironic, and just stupid? Gotta go with stupid. It’s not the easy way out. Self-pity is the easiest thing in the world. Finding the humor, the irony, the slight justification for a skewed, skeptical optimism, that’s tough.

My visitors are often surprised when they see the TV Mack put in my domain. They seem to find it odd, the sight of a gorilla staring at tiny humans in a box. Sometimes I wonder, though: Isn't the way they stare at me, sitting in my tiny box, just as strange?

But sometimes things happen that aren’t so good. When they occur, I’ve learned that there’s not much you can do except stand tall and reach deep.

Hollows are proof that something bad can become something good with enough time and care and hope" -Red

Besides, the more you listen, the more you learn.

Anger is precious. A silverback uses his anger to maintain order and warn his troop of danger. When my father beat his chest, it was to say, Beware, listen, I am in charge. I am angry to protect you, because that is what I was born to do. Here in my domain, there is no one to protect.

Fun fact, Jackson. You can't see sound waves, but you can hear music.

It’s not so bad, I wanted to tell the little boy. With enough time, you can get used to almost anything.

But even I have enough sense to know the words “we have to win” are the first four steps on the road to hell.

My favorite color is rainbow.

You know a guy is funny when a week later you can still feel the little knives he stuck in you.

Days have a way of slipping past like raindrops in a river.

There is beauty in stillness and grace in acceptance.

My life is flashing lights and pointing fingers and uninvited visitors. Inches away, humans flatten their little hands against the wall of glass that separates us. The glass says you are this and we are that and that is how it will always be.

Today, tomorrow, sooner or later, you will meet someone who is lost, just as you yourself have been lost, and as you will be lost again someday. And when that happens, it is your duty to say "I've been lost, too. Let me help you find your way home.

I was Jake's insurance policy. He thought maybe he wouldn't have to use me. He hoped, anyway. But down deep he knew, and I knew, and we both hid the truth from the others because Cassie couldn't let Jake make that decision, and Tobias couldn't let me, and those two, by loving us, would have screwed everything up. It was a war, after all. A war we had to win.

Don't be so sure,' Cassie said. 'We're fighting for Mother Earth. She has some tricks up her sleeves.' 'Good grief,' Marco said. 'Let's all buy Birkenstocks and go hug some trees.

If you can talk, you can sing. If you can walk, you can dance.

friendship doesn’t have to be hard. That sometimes we let the world make it hard.

Old age," she says, "is a wonderful disguise.

Life changes, so you must hope.

I like not knowing everything. It makes things more interesting.

Meantime, I was going to enjoy the magic while I could.

Imagine being the only two free humans in all the world

Human humour often consists of pretending to wish something does not really wish.

When you’ve been through the worst with someone, you appreciate the best.

Maybe it's easier to forgive others once you've learned how to forgive yourself.

I felt exalted. It was my moment. This was my place and my time and my own perfection. I was no longer afraid. Weird. If I'd had a mouth I'd have smiled. I said. No one moved. I asked. No answer. I said, almost laughing.

What's love? Something that lasts a week or a month and that's all you can except? Or is it just that some loves have a short shelf life? You know, like yogurt: after a week or two they go bad. And how do you recognize the other kind of love, the kind that isn't like yogurt? The kind that's more like... I don't know, like peanut butter, that lasts forever and always tastes good?

She spoke about her family she'd lost. She spoke about her secret hopes and fears and longings. She had love to give, and no one to give it to.

Christopher flushed, gaped, and then laughed. I gave him credit for that. Lots of guys can laugh at someone else. Chistopher could laugh at himself. You see a lot less of that.

I just want to get on a table, dance on someone's tater tots, and wait for the hall monitor to drag me away

But everyone needs to hope.

Trees can’t tell jokes. But we can certainly tell stories. And if all you hear is the whisper of leaves, don’t worry. Most trees are introverts at heart.

If you're not afraid, you're a fool. If you are afraid, even scared to death, and keep your head? That is called courage.

I've fought for more than three years. I was just thirteen when I started. I'm sixteen now, though that fact, like so many facts, has been deliberately obscured in the secret accounts we've kept. I'm a sixteen-year-old kid named Jake Berenson, and I am the leader of the Animorphs.

My family tree spreads wide as well. I am a great ape, and you are a great ape, and so are chimpanzees and orangutans and bonobos, all of us distant and distrustful cousins. I know this is troubling. I too find it hard to believe there is a connection across time and space, linking me to a race of ill-mannered clowns. Chimps. There's no excuse for them.

Stay.

They think we’re intelligent. So, Marco, keep quiet. We don’t want them to learn the truth.” Rachel

...I didn't want to miss a moment of what little life I had left. I wanted to drink in the stars. I wanted to feel the fuzzy wings of the owlets. I wanted to stretch my roots just a tiny bit farther before the night was through. I wanted to indulge in some quiet contemplation about life and love and what it all meant... "I've been thinking... There's no point in my worrying about tomorrow. It will come soon enough.

The way I understand things, it’s like this. We live on a lonely ball called Earth, and humans have basically been throwing it against the wall for so long that the poor ol’ ball is falling apart.

So, there we were. The five of us - Marco, Tobias, Rachel, Cassie, and me. Five normal mallrats heading home. Sometimes I think about that one, last moment when we were still just normal kids. It's like it was a million years ago, like it was some totally different group of kids. You know what I was afraid of right then? I was afraid of admitting to Tom that I hadn't made the team. That was as scary as life got back then. Five minutes later, life got a lot scarier.

All day, I watch humans scurry from store to store. They pass their green paper, dry as old leaves and smelling of a thousand hands, back and forth and back again. They hunt frantically, stalking, pushing, grumbling. Then they leave, clutching bags filled with things - bright things, soft things, big things - but no matter how full the bags, they always come back for more. Humans are clever indeed. They spin pink clouds you can eat. They build domains with flat waterfalls. But they are lousy hunters.

What bothered me most, though, was that I couldn’t fix anything. I couldn’t control anything. It was like driving a bumper car without a steering wheel. I kept getting slammed, and I just had to sit there and hold on tight.

Here’s the thing, Jackson. Life is messy. It’s complicated. It would be nice if life were always like this.” He drew an imaginary line that kept going up and up. “But life is actually a lot more like this.” He made a jiggly line that went up and down like a mountain range. “You just have to keep trying.

People don't understand the word ruthless. They think it means "mean." It's not about being mean. It's about seeing the bright, clear line that leads from A to B. The line that goes from motive to means. Beginning to end. It's about seeing that bright, clear line and not caring about anything but the beautiful fact that you can see the solution. Not caring about anything else but the perfection of it.

Ah." Ax nodded. "She does not understand how menacing we are." He tapped her on the shoulder. "You do not know me," he said, "but I am a juvenile delinquent. I do not trust authority figures, I probably will not graduate from high school, and statistics say my present rowdiness and vandalism will likely lead to more serious crimes. I am a dangerous fellow and I am causing mayhem in this store." He reached behind her and pulled three jars of baby food from the top shelf. Shoved them behind a box of macaroni. Shuffled the Chess Whizzed in front of the Marshmallow Fluff. Tossed a bag of lady's shavers onto a bag of hamburger buns. "There. I have now shamelessly destroyed the symmetry of this shelf, undoing hours of labor by underpaid store employees. If you could see me, you would be frightened." "If she could see you, she'd have you committed," Marco muttered.

I think that's his point," April said. "Not dumb, maybe. Just naive. I mean we come from a cynical age. Suspicious of everything. Maybe thats the advantage we have." "Yeah our bad attitudes versus their swords and axes and giant wolves," Christopher said darkly.

Not long ago, a little boy stood before my glass, tears streaming down his smooth red cheeks. “He must be the loneliest gorilla in the world,” he said, clutching his mother’s hand. At times like that, I wish humans could understand me the way I can understand them. It’s not so bad, I wanted to tell the little boy. With enough time, you can get used to almost anything.

I laughed. 'You almighty Andalites. There is no limit to your arrogance, is there? Well, let me tell you something: we may be simple people. But we don't use biology to invent monsters. And we don't enslave other species. And we don't unleash a plague of parasites on the galaxy, endangering every other free species, and then go swaggering around like the lords of the universe. No, we're too simple for that. We're too stupid to lie and manipulate. We're too stupid to be ruthless. We're too stupid to know how to build powerful weapons designed to annihilate our enemies. Until you came, Andalite, we were too stupid to know how to kill.' -Dak Hamee

I've always believed that to some extent you get to decide for yourself what your life will be like. You can either look at the world and say "Oh, isn't it all so tragic, so grim, so awful." Or you can look at the world and decide that it's mostly funny. If you step back far enough from the details, everything gets funny. You say war is tragic. I say, isn't it crazy the way people will fight over nothing? People fight wars to control crappy little patches of empty desert, for crying out loud. It's like fighting over an empty soda can. It's not so much tragic as it is ridiculous. Asinine! Stupid! You say, isn't it terrible about global warming? And I say, no, it's funny. We're going to bring on global warming because we ran too many leaky air conditioners? We used too much spray deodorant, so now we'll be doomed to sweat forever? That's not sad. That's irony.

Jake, our fearless leader. On a crazed kamikaze mission. I’d never seen him like this. Even in our lowest moments, he’d always been steady. Resolute. He weighed the costs, made a decision, forged ahead. And I’d always wondered how he did it. How he kept it straight in his mind. Yeerks. Visser One. Aliens conquering humans, conquering the planet. Fighting the enemy without becoming like them. How did he sort through all that? The emotions, the ethical dilemmas, the moral crises? How did he wrap his brain around it all so he could make logical decisions? Smart decisions. The kind that saved the lives of his team. The kind that set the enemy back a small step or two. But now I knew. Jake didn’t understand any of it better than the rest of us did. If he defeated the Yeerks, freed humanity, rescued Earth, that was good. But that was just a bonus. His main goal was much simpler. To save his family. That goal was what had given him strength. That goal was what had kept him sane. Allowed him to retain a center of calm focus amid the awful chaos. His family.

You will have noticed that I didn’t give this story a pat conclusion, and that’s deliberate. Katherine (my wife and frequent coauthor, K. A. Applegate) and I were among the earliest authors to encounter fan fiction via the internet. We’ve embraced it from the start. And some part of me hopes that fanfic writers will carry this story forward. Don’t ask me what happens to these characters next, because I don’t know. Will Dekka find love, perhaps with Simone? Will Cruz and Armo? How will Sam and Astrid do in this terrifying extension of earlier trauma? Maybe you have some ideas. I built the sandbox; if you want to bring your pails and shovels and play in it, cool. It’s one of the best things about writing for young people: you are my collaborators in imagination. If I leave blanks it’s because I know you’ll fill them.