The Hand on the Wall Quotes

“The wonderful thing about reality is that it is highly flexible. One minute, all is doom; the next, everything is abloom with possibility.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Anxiety does not ask your permission. Anxiety does not come when expected. It's very rude. It barges in at the strangest moments, stopping all activity, focusing everything on itself It sucks the air our of your lungs and scrambles the world.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“My moose,” she said in a low voice. “I finally got it. The universe paid me in moose.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Are you trying to make me have an emotion?...Because I've spent by whole life learning how to repress and deflect and you're kind of ruining my thing”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Anxiety, her therapist had told her many times, never killed anyone. It felt like death, but it was an illusion. A terrible illusion that inhabited your body and tried to make it its puppet. It told you nothing mattered because everything was made of fear.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Her attention was drawn to a movement in the woods in the direction of the river. The trees were slowly coming back into bud, but they were still bare enough that she could make out a shape.
"Moose," she said, almost in a whisper. "Moose. Moose."
She tugged Nate's sleeve.
"Moose," she repeated.
The object moved away, out of sight. Stevie blinked. It had just been there, the massive antlers moving through the trees.
"My moose," she said in a low voice. "I finally got it. The universe paid me in moose."
With one backward glance at the magical spot, Stevie Bell resumed walking toward her class. Anatomy was still ahead of her. Lots of things were ahead of her, but this one was the closest.

"That wasn't a moose, was it?" Janelle said when Stevie was out of earshot. "That's a branch, right? It moved in the wind?"
"It's a branch," Nate replied.
"Like, that's obviously a branch," Vi said. "Should we tell her? She seems really invested in this."
"Definitely not," Nate said as Stevie vanished in the direction of the classroom buildings, earbuds already in her ears. "Let her have her moose.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Fun fact," Stevie said, trying to lighten the mood in the vast, gloomy space. "This fireplace? Henry the Eighth had one just like it, in Hampton Court. Albert Ellingham had an exact copy made."
"Fun fact," Nate replied, "Henry the Eighth killed two of his wives. Who wants a murderer's fireplace?"
"I'm not sure, but that's the name of my new game show.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“It turns out I'm really good at this stuff."
"I always believed in you," Stevie said.
"Did you?"
"No," Stevie said. "But you have a nice ass, so I let you slide."
They smiled at each other from a thousand miles away. Stevie had never felt closer to him.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“If Gertie van Coevorden had two brain cells, each would be amazed to know of the other's existence.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Every contact leaves a trace.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“And then, it arrived.
Anxiety does not ask your permission. Anxiety does not come when expected. It's very rude. It barges in at the strangest moments, stopping all activity, focusing everything on itself. It sucks the air out of your lungs and scrambles the world. Her vision went spotty around the edges. The ringing in her ears swelled again. Her knees buckled.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Slippers always seemed like kind of a nonsense item until she came to Ellingham and felt the bathroom floor on the first proper day of wintry weather. Once skin touched tile and part of her soul died, she knew what slippers were for.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Hello, Alice," Stevie said. "It'd okay. It's over.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Charles had a look on his face said, "I'm not angry, but I am disappointed." Dr. Quinn's expression said, "He's passive-aggressive. I'm not. I am aggressive. I have killed before."”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“I did it," she said.
"Yup."
"You made fun of me when i first got here," she said. "But I did it."
"I was being friendly."
"You were being a dick," she said.
"Why do you think we like each other?" Stevie asked.
"Does it matter?"
"I don't know," she said. "I don't know how these things work."
"Neither do I. Neither does anybody."
"Some people seem to. I thin Janelle does."
"Janelle," he said, "may know everything, but she doesn't know that. And I like you because . . ."
He rolled up to his side and onto one elbow, gazing down into her face. He traced her jawline with one finger, sending such shivers down her body that she struggled not to squirm.
". . because you came to do something impossible and you did it. And you're smart. And you're really, really attractive."
There, on the floor that had been scuffed by a thousand dance shoes, under the eyes of the masks on the wall that had seen decades go by, they kissed, over and over, each one renewing the last.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“There were night sounds that Stevie had still not come to grips with - the rustling on the ground and above, the hooting of owls - things that suggested that far more happened here at night than during the day. (And yet, Stevie had yet to see the one creature that had been promised in sign after sign along the highway, the ones that read MOOSE. One moose. That's all she wanted. Was that too much to ask? Instead, there were these suggestions of owls, and all Stevie ever heard about the owls was that they liked shiny things and would eat your eyes given half the chance.)”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Stevie, how many stories -"

"It's all one story," Stevie said, and the confidence in her voice surprised her. "It was about money then, and it's about money now.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Leo approved of poets, generally, but it was very important not to let them get started on the subject of their work if you wanted to continue enjoying poetry.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“She didn’t want to be brave anymore. It was exhausting. Anxiety crawled under her skin all the time, like some alien creature that might burst through at any moment. Stevie”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“I'm trying to figure out if this is the stupidest thing I've ever done," Nate said as he kept up the rear with Stevie. "I don't think it is, and that worries me."
"It probably isn't."
"I mean, the thing with the files is crazy. I honestly don't even know if I'm going to look at them"
"Then why did you stay?" she asked.
"Because," Nate said, tipping his head toward David, "when you and he get together, something bad happens to you."
Stevie swallowed down a lump in her throat. She wanted to reach over and grab Nate's hand at that moment, except that Nate would probably receive the gesture with as much enthusiasm as a handful of spiders.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“That's what she gets, if she gets anything at all," Stevie said. "All of this starts in late May and goes on through June. What dose this suggest?"

"Morning sickness," Nate said, his eyes widening.

"Morning sickness," Stevie replied, smiling.

"You terrify me," Nate said quietly.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“I am out of ideas and need to conserve my energy so I can freak out more efficiently.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Stevie's other big interest outside crime was disaster, so she had seen Titanic many times. It was clear to her that there was plenty of room on that door for two people. Jack was murdered.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Oh my God,” he said. “What are you, a saint or something?” “I stole this mug,” she said. “So, no. Besides, if the school closed down, you’d have to go home and finish your book or something. I did it for you. I’m not even telling anyone else. I mean, aside from my friends. Like you.” “Are you trying to make me have an emotion?” Nate said, his eyes reddening a bit. “Because I’ve spent my whole life learning how to repress and deflect and you’re kind of ruining my thing.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Once skin touched tile and part of her soul died, she knew what slippers were for.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“And yet, there was another, bigger Stevie. This Stevie spent her time online reading everything about murder. She studied criminology textbooks. She believed, really believed, that she could solve the crime of the century. And she had. Stevie had never put these Stevies together to assemble a portrait of herself—her choices had not been failures. They had been choices. It was all one Stevie, and that Stevie was worthwhile”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“When she thought of old Stevie, the one in Pittsburgh, she had two separate ideas that never met up. The first Stevie was antisocial and underachieving. She didn’t participate in any clubs,”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“She strode across the room like she had meant to be here all along and busied herself in the kitchen for a moment, filling the electric kettle to make herself a hot chocolate. She dumped two packages into a mug and looked at the pile of chocolate dust she intended to consume. Was this supposed to make up for something, this dust? Was it supposed to repair whatever in her that had ripped in two? That was a lot to ask of a mug of cocoa dust.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“My parents t-trust me." Stevie and David looked at her blankly. "What's that l-like?" David asked.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall

“Falling down a hole is easy. Everyone should try it. You just let the ground go away and allow gravity to do its thing.”
― Maureen Johnson, The Hand on the Wall