Caroline B. Cooney

But sometimes, in tight corners, when your back is against the wall and the world is against you, you have to fight back in unexpected ways.

— Caroline B. Cooney

I actually thought you would be kind," said the vampire." Go away!" screamed Dev nee. He did not answer." I didn't have to be kind," Dev nee told him. "Victoria was kind for me." He laughed." No one can be kind for you, my dear," said the vampire. "But I don't mind, of course. I have you now. There's no escape, my dear. You and I, Dev nee Fountain, are a team.

— Caroline B. Cooney

If I were a seagull wouldn't have to stick around If people argued- I would fly off, swerve, wheel, dip, scream.a thousand wings of company if I have friends two strong wings of my own If I don't

— Caroline B. Cooney

It was darker in the tower than any place Dev nee had ever been. The dark had textures, some velvet, some satin. The dark shifted positions. The dark continued to breathe. The breath of the tower lifted her clothing like the flaps of a tent, and sounded in her ears like falling snow. It's the wind coming through the double shutters, Dev nee told herself. But how could the wind come through? There were glass windows between the inside and outside shutters. Or were there? The windows weren't just holes in the wall, were they? What if there was no glass? What if things crawled through those open louvers, crept into the room, blew in with the cold that fingered her hair? What creatures of the night could slither through those slats? She had not realized how wonderful glass was, how it protected you and kept you inside. She knew something was out there.

— Caroline B. Cooney

Listen to the sea...it sounds like a coffin being dragged over broken glass.

— Caroline B. Cooney

Seventh grade had a full complement of creeps, weirdos, future criminals, and nerds.

— Caroline B. Cooney

She had a sense of herself being brain-dead: running on tubes and machines.

— Caroline B. Cooney

She had never had a daydream that dreamed itself, like nightmares. That crawled out of her brain like a creature of the dark. A daymare.

— Caroline B. Cooney

She was a mind floating in an ocean of confusion.

— Caroline B. Cooney

The sea can smack the rocks like a hand smacking a cheek. It can hiss or gurgle or even kiss. But when it wants, it can go quiet. 'And then', said Anya Roth rock, 'you can hear the voices of the drowned'.

— Caroline B. Cooney