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even a tiny bit of deceit is dishonorable when it's used for selfish or cowardly reasons
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lying
lies
truth
inspirational
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Jeanne Birdsall |
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Jane,' she said, climbing down from the chair. 'Remember last year when I built that model wind tower for you and you wrote those poems for me?' And you said you'd never switch homework assignments with me again.' For good reason. My teacher had a hard time believing I wrote When I finally convinced her that I had, she asked me if I needed to talk to the school counselor.
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Jeanne Birdsall |
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The kitchen] was also messy--delightfully so, thought Jane--and it didn't look as though lots of cooking went on there. There was a laptop computer on the counter with duck stickers on it, the spice cabinet was full of Ben's toy trucks, and Jane couldn't spot a cookbook anywhere. This is the kitchen of a Thinker, she decided, and promised herself that she'd never bother with cooking, either.
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kitchens
home
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Jeanne Birdsall |
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cf5d19d
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Mere children, ha!" said Jane. "I say we tie up the knave and then discuss his fate." Since everyone thought this a good idea, Batty and Hound donated Jeffrey's neckties, and soon Bug Man, aka Sock or Spock, aka Norman Birnbaum, was bound hand and foot. Jane, Batty, and Hound then took a few minutes to be Aztec priests calling for blood, until Rosalind quieted them down. Norman was slime, but that was no reason to terrify him. Then came a ..
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sisters
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Jeanne Birdsall |
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revealing Jane in all her blood-soaked glory,
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Jeanne Birdsall |
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CHAPTER ONE A Boy at the Window FOR A LONG TIME AFTER THAT SUMMER, the four Penderwick sisters still talked of Arundel. Fate drove us there, Jane would say. No, it was the greedy landlord who sold our vacation house on Cape Cod, someone else would say, probably Skye. Who knew which was right? But it was true that the beach house they usually rented had been sold at the last minute, and the Penderwicks were suddenly without summer plans. Mr...
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Jeanne Birdsall |
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Maybe it's fate that Hound ate the map. Maybe we'll discover something wonderful while we're lost.
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Jeanne Birdsall |