Ransom Riggs Quotes

Because from the day I met her I'd known I wanted to be part of any world she belonged to. Did that make me crazy? Or was my heart too easily conquered?

...slow and drunk is no match for fast and scared shitless.

If I never went home, what exactly would I be missing? I pictured my cold cavernous house, my friendless town full of bad memories, the utterly unremarkable life that had been mapped out for me. It had never once occurred to me, I realized, to refuse it.

Strange, I thought, how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the very same time.

She moved to pinch me again but I blocked her hand. I'm no expert on girls, but when one tries to pinch you four times, I'm pretty sure that's flirting.

I didn’t know what to call it, what was happening between us, but I liked it. It felt silly and fragile and good.

Have they built cities on the moon?" another boy asked hopefully.
"We left some garbage and a flag there in the sixties, but thats about it.

What would Golan Do? That way I can ask myself before I do anything. Before I take a dump. How would Dr. Golan want me to take this dump? Should I bank it off the side or go straight down the middle? What would be the most psychologically beneficial dump I could take?

I wanted to thank you," I said.
She wrinkled her nose and squinted like I'd said something funny. "Thank me for what?" she said.
"You give me strength I didn't know I had,"; I said. "You make me better.

You may choose to live in a world of fantasy if you like, my dear, but I am a realist.

..he had trampled her poor, pining heart, and the wound was still raw, even these many years later.

Maybe I could use a little metal on the inside, I thought. If I'd kept my heart better armored, where would I be now?
Easy - I’d be at home, medicating myself into a monotone. Drowning my sorrows in video games. Working shifts at Smart Aid. Dying inside, day by day, from regret.

But these weren't the kind of monsters that had tentacles and rotting skin, the kind a seven-year-old might be able to wrap his mind around-they were monsters with human faces, in crisp uniforms, marching in lockstep, so banal you don't recognize them for what they are until it's too late.

A song and a smile from someone I cared about could be enough to distract me from all that darkness, if only for a little while.

That was our friendship: equal parts irritation and cooperation.

Do you ever find yourself climbing into an open grave during a bombing raid and wish you'd just stayed in bed?

It's easy to say you don't care about money when you have plenty of it.

It seemed like my parents were always trying to get me to care about money, but I didn't, really. Then again, it's easy to say you don't care about money when you have plenty of it.

Though I imagine we're killing ourselves right now in all manner of ways that'll seem insane to people in the future. And as doors to the next world go, a bog ain't a bad choice. It's not quite water and it's not quite land - it's an in-between place.