Stella By Starlight Quotes

Words fall out of the sky like leaves, girl. Grab a couple and write ’em down.

She read it over one last time, not really satisfied, but it was the truth. Even if it still had some scratch-outs.

Never be afraid to be honest and stand up for what is right, Stella,” he said pointedly. “Just remember to balance your courage with wisdom.

Don't aim for riches, child. Aim for happiness." -Mrs. Mills

All the salve in the world can't cure what gets broken in somebody's soul" -Mama

Trust me. The older you get, the scarier the world gets to be.

You know, children, quilts, like stories, are part of our heritage, part of our culture. Some quilts even tell stories. Our past is a patchwork of memories and tales. You all keep that forever tucked in your pockets, you hear?

Bad writers don’t practice, Stella. It’s the good ones who care enough to try, who worry about getting the words just right.

Stella wondered how silence could be so loud.

Ashes don't necessarily signify an end

each grabbing one silver-wrapped chocolate from Mrs. Cooper’s basket, it struck Stella that everyone got the same thing, no matter which school they went to.

I was just thinking about me having children. Or being a grandma!" She giggled. "Think I'll be fat and have gray hair?" "I sure hope so," her father said, laughing himself.

Stella's father hesitated. "Georgia supports me, but she was a mite trembly this morning. I brought Stella though."He squeezed her shoulders affectionately. "I don't want to just tell her about bravery--I want to show her what it looks like.

Why are some people mean and some people nice?" "I don't rightly know...But my job is to teach all of you to be the best people you can be...

Bad writers don't practice, Stella. It's the good ones who care enough to try, who worry about getting the words just right. You are probably better than you think" -Papa

Sometimes I just get tired of bowin’ down and givin’ up, you know?” It

There’s an unseen river of communication that forever flows—dark and powerful. Tonight was about food and laughter, yes. But it was also about navigatin’ that river.” A

There is an unseen river of communication that forever flows -- dark and powerful.

What's the sense of living if you're ashamed of yourself? Stella's father said almost to himself.

Dear, Missus, Mister - I beg you never to give thoughts to war, in no way, not to work for it, not by writing nor by reading about it nor by looking at the pictures nor on the television about it. Not in any way ever, at all. Not by being a soldier, sailor, airman, work in factory or above all at atom bombs. Above all at atom bombs. No obligation for this, dear fellow creature. Signed Your Fellow Creature.' 'P.S.,' said Gerald slowly, without turning from the window, 'If we all do this, we shall succeed.

The people

• A man named Hitler from Germany has lots of soldiers following him. He calls them storm troopers.

Ain’t gonna let nobody turn me round, Turn me round, turn me round. Ain’t gonna let nobody turn me round. Gonna keep on walkin’, keep on talkin’ Marching up to freedom land.

Her mother gave her a piece of warm biscuit and a hug before they left. "Stones don't cry, child. Remember that," was all she said.

I think when we feel scared, they feel strong.

I think when get scared, they feel strong.'--Stella

Finally he said, "Bad writers don't practice, Stella. It's the good ones who care enough to try, who worry about getting the words just right. You are probably better than you think.

Stella expected to see fire in Mr. Spencer's eyes, fire like the flames that had made tinder of his house. Instead his eyes were soft, gentle, and brown like the earth. "I have to show them they didn't destroy me," he said simply.

As the children from Riverside School and the children from Mountain View School filed out of the store, each grabbing one silver-wrapped chocolate from Mrs. Cooper’s basket, it struck Stella that everyone got the same thing, no matter which school they went to.

As another stack of two-by-fours landed by her porch, Stella couldn't help but think about how folks had come together when Spoon Man showed up. This time, however, they managed to do a cook-up for a whole house! Nobody had everything, but everybody had something to offer.

And you, Jonah? Is your family behind you on this?” Stella’s father hesitated. “Georgia supports me, but she was a mite trembly this morning. I brought Stella, though.” He squeezed her shoulders affectionately. “I don’t want to just tell her about bravery—I want to show her what it looks like.

Twenty minutes later, just as Stella thought she was going to collapse with worry and anticipation, her father, the pastor, and Mr. Spencer emerged from the polling station, smiles lighting their faces. And now she saw what she'd expected to see earlier in Mr. Spencer's eyes. They were on fire.

Then let us pray," Pastor Patton said firmly. Stella noticed a few townspeople slowing down as they passed by; none of the faces looked pleasant. She closed her eyes. "Dear Lord," said the pastor, we bow down before you as we stand up for dignity. Be with us and protect us both morning, noon and night. Amen.

So Hobart and Harriett get their house burned down? What's next--a lynching?" Mrs. Bates jerked the bucket from the woman next to her. "I've seen a body swingin'. Three times in my life," her husband said, his voice low. For a moment, except for the roaring of the smoky flames, everyone went quite. Stella wondered how silence could be so loud.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt is the new president. He won in a landslide. Landslide makes me think of rocks and dirt falling down a mountain. Not sure what that has to do with an election. But maybe it does. My papa voted. He is a pebble. Lots of pebbles make a landslide, right? His vote counted. Roosevelt will move into the White House and will have a fine supper to celebrate, I guess. Papa had cornbread and buttermilk and beans with his friends at my house. I bet papa enjoyed his celebration more.

As she awaits further developments, Stella Stonechild Bignell is determined to continue speaking to the media and asking questions of the police until she gets the answer she still has not found: How did Neil Stonechild die?

Not everything is about you Stella! I love your son more than you can even comprehend." "I see that now; I've seen his silver rings" "The rings don't change what we felt for each other before the stars offered them to us. The world decided to validate our love the second we were mated, but we loved each other long before that. The people who really care for us accepted that well before the stars had their say.

The same wind that blowed so hard the sun came up late and Sunday didn’t get here until late Tuesday evening?” Pastor Patton joined in. “That’s musta been why I missed church last week,” Mr. Winston said. “You missed church because you went fishing!” Pastor Patton retorted. Mr. Winston turned to Spoon Man. “Save me, Spoon Man,” he pleaded. “Tell us a story before the pastor sends me to damnation for a fishin’ trip!

Her father looked to the distance, out across the pond. “Sometimes I just get tired of bowin’ down and givin’ up, you know?” It was Dr. Hawkins who nodded in agreement. He placed a hand on Papa’s broad shoulder, but then he added, “You know, Jonah, sometimes it’s best to wait till times get better.

It’s just that . . . well, I like the night. And it’s a good place to hide.” “Hide? From what?” Stella inched away, making a face. “I come out here to practice, Mama. I’ve got stuff in my head, but I don’t know how to get it out. I try to write it down some“times, but I’m not very good at it. It’s like my brains are dumplings in somebody else’s soup.” She looked up toward the stars, but even the sky had turned murky. Her mother hugged her closer. “I’ve talked to Gertrude Grayson a time or two,” she said gently. Stella stiffened. Betrayed! “She says you are the best thinker in the school.

Ashes don't necessarily signify an end.

You work real hard, and what do you have to show for it?

Ab ipso peto nunc et semper – his bond is mine,” Stella panted, and a flash of red light exploded between our palms, throwing her away from me as power poured from my body into hers. It was so forceful that it shattered the glass tank and Darcy was washed out of it on a tide of blood.

You know, back in slavery times, our people told stories and sang songs to pass on information when it was dangerous to say things out loud.” ... “... . There’s an unseen river of communication that forever flows—dark and powerful. Tonight was about food and laughter, yes. But it was also about navigatin’ that river.

If you hate him, it was just a pash, and from now on I can begin to move in. Deathless adoration, eternal whatsit – and you hate him. Well, well. That isn’t the way I love you, and it’s not the way you’re going to love me. One of these fine days. Some enchanted evening.