Rick Yancey
Rick Yancey
Richard "Rick" Yancey is an American author who has gained acclaim for his works of suspense, fantasy, and science fiction aimed at young adults...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth4 November 1962
CityMiami, FL
CountryUnited States of America
thinking brave faces
We'd stared into the face of Death, and Death blinked first. You'd think that would make us feel brave and invincible. It didn't.
prayer sleep broken
I brought Sammy inside and put him to bed. Said his prayer with him. “‘Now I lay me down to sleep…’” To me, just random noise. Gibberish. I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but I felt that, when it came to God, there was a broken promise in there somewhere.
definitions monsters demand
The monstrous act by definition demands a monster.
found-you way willing
I had it all wrong," he says. "Before I found you, I thought the only way to hold on was to find something to live for. It isn't. To hold on, you have to find something you're willing to die for.
eye men sharks
I am a shark, Cassie," he says slowly, drawing the words out, as if he might be speaking to me for the last time. Looking into my eyes with tears in his, as if he's seeing me for the last time. "A shark who dreamed he was a man.
prayer broken promise
Prayers and promises. The one his sister made to him. The unspoken one I made to my sister. Prayers are promises, too, and these are the days of broken promises.
unbroken dies
Because we will die, but at least we will die unbroken.
native-american thinking silence
I'm not encouraged by the silence. I can think of no benign reason for it. I'm afraid we may expect something closer to Christopher Columbus's arrival in the Americas than a scene from Close Encounters, and we all know how that turned out for the Native Americans.
home coming-home knows
You never know when the truth will come home. You can't choose the time. The time chooses you.
summer spring twilight
The spring rains woke the dormant tillers, and bright green shoots sprang from the moist earth and rose like sleepers stretching after a long nap. As spring gave way to summer, the bright green stalks darkened, became tan, turned golden brown. The days grew long and hot. Thick towers of swirling black clouds brought rain, and the brown stems glistened in the perpetual twilight that dwelled beneath the canopy. The wheat rose and the ripening heads bent in the prairie wind, a rippling curtain, an endless, undulating sea that stretched to the horizon.
mortals
You're mortal, and only a mortal can afford to be romantic. When we conquered death, we murdered love.
world clock winding-down
The world is a clock winding down.
willing-to-die willing dies
To hold on, you have to find something you’re willing to die for.
dream stars adventure
What boy my age didn’t dream of fleeing the well-tended lawn and lamp-lit street for the untamed wilderness, where grand adventure awaited on the other side of the horizon, where the stars burned undimmed in the velvet sky above his head and the virgin ground lay untrodden beneath his feet?