Matthew Tobin Anderson Quotes - Page 2

• One of the series I like is D.M. Cornish's 'Monster Blood Tattoo,' in which he creates a whole language. Kids who are reading that are building a language in their heads. There's no real cognitive difference. I think kids are excited by language, and they're not always given credit for that.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Tattoo, Real, Reading

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• A library is an adjustable wrench for opening the head.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Library, Opening, Wrenches

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• I was someone who really loved fantasy novels and science fiction novels.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Fantasy Novels, Fiction Novels, Science Fiction

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• Occasionally people ask me how it is I write different types of things, and my answer to that is it's very natural. You get bored writing one kind of thing all the time.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Writing, People, Bored

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• I could see my face, crying, in her blank eye.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Eye, Faces, Cry

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• We all flee in hope of finding some ground of security

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Findings, Security

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• Of course, I had my heart broken as a teen. I was desperately in love with myself. Then I found out that I was completely shallow. I haven't spoken to myself since.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Heart, Broken, Shallow

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• People talk about the beauty of the spring, but I can't see it. The trees are brown and bare, slimy with rain. Some are crawling with new purple hairs. And the buds are bulging like tumorous acne, and I can tell that something wet, and soft, and cold, and misshapen is about to be born. And I am turning into a vampire.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Spring, Rain, Hair

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• Whispering makes a narrow place narrower.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Susurrando

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• I don’t know. D’you think? He’s pretty wide in the chest.” The girl looked at me, and I was frozen. So I said, “Yeah. I work out.” Violet asked me, “What are you? What’s your cup size?” I shrugged and played along. “Like, nine and a half?” I guessed. “That’s my shoe size.” Violet said, “I think he’d like something slinky, kind of silky.” I said, “As long as you can stop me from rubbing myself up against a wall the whole time.” “Okay,” said Violet, holding her hands up like she was annoyed. “Okay, the chemise last week was a mistake.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Girl, Wall, Mistake

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• Image of a girl holding a blaster to a twin’s temple. “Remember, bi***. You can’t spell ‘danger’ without DNA.” Blam.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Girl, Dna, Temples

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• Then it was this big thing. She was like, 'I never want to see you again', and I was like, 'Fine. Okay? Fine. Then get some special goggles.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Special, Goggles, Want

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• We must curb ourfury, and allow sadness to diminish, and speak our stories with coolness and deliberation.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Sadness, Stories, Speak

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• ...for reading, once begun, quickly becomes home and circle and court and family, and indeed, without narrative, I felt exiled from my own country. By the transport of books, that which is most foreign becomes one's familiar walks and avenues; while that which is most familiar is removed to delightful strangeness; and unmoving, one travels infinite causeways, immobile and thus unfettered.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  País, Libro, Lectura

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• I miss that time. The cities back then, just after the forests died, were full of wonders, and you'd stumble on them--these princes of the air on common rooftops--the rivers that burst through the city streets so they ran like canals--the rabbits in parking garages--the deer foaling, nestled in Dumpsters like a Nativity.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Air, Cities, Rivers

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• Perhaps his gloom was due to his profession, that he lived among fallen empires, and in reading these languages that had not been spoken by the common man in centuries, he had all about him the ruin of language, evidence of toppled suburbs, grass growing among the mosaics, and voices that had been choked with poison, iron, age, or ash.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Reading, Men, Voice

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• You need the noise of your friends in space.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Space, Needs, Noise

  "Feed". Book by Matthew Tobin Anderson, www.npr.org. 2002.

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• ...they told me of color, that it was an illusion of the eye, an event in the perceiver's mind, not in the object; they told me that color had no reality; indeed, they told me that color did not inhere in a physical body any more than pain was in a needle. And then they imprisoned me in darkness; and though there was no color there, I still was black, and they still were white; and for that, they bound and gagged me.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Pain, Eye, Reality

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• I don't know when they first had feeds. Like maybe, fifty or a hundred years ago. Before that, they had to use their hands and their eyes. Computers were all outside the body. They carried them around outside of them, in their hands, like if you carried your lungs in a briefcase and opened it to breathe.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Eye, Hands, Years

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• My idea of life, it's what happens when they're rolling the credits.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Ideas, Rolling, Credit

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• Keep thinking. You can hear our brains rattling around inside us, like the littler Russian dolls.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Thinking, Brain, Dolls

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• We are the nation of dreams. We are seers. We are wizards. We speak in visions. Our letters are like flocks of doves, released from under our hats. We have only to stretch out our hand and desire, and what we wish for settles like a kerchief in our palm. We are a race of sorcerers, enchanters. We are Atlantis. We are the wizard-isle of Mu.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Dream, Hands, Race

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• it's like a squid in love with the sky.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Sky, Squids

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• The sky was as blue as a stupid postcard, and the islands were as green as islands.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Stupid, Blue, Sky

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• There's an ancient saying in Japan, that life is like walking from one side of infinite darkness to another, on a bridge of dreams. They say that we're all crossing the bridge of dreams together. That there's nothing more than that. Just us, on the bridge of dreams.

  Matthew Tobin Anderson

  Dream, Japan, Bridges

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