Quotes from Antonia Michaelis

You didn't see us," she said to Anna... "I was... lost in thought," Anna replied. "What were you thinking about?" "You," Anna said. "Isn't that strange? I was thinking of you two so hard that I didn't see you.

I'm doing a thousand new things in spite of myself," he said. "It's not easy, you know, to jump over your shadow.

They saw him walk away, leave a world he'd never really been part of. They saw him pull his hat down low and get onto his bike. He forgot the Walkman's earplugs. Maybe, Anna thought, he didn't need them anymore; maybe the white noise had finally made it into his head.

The place in her, though, where her tears should have come from, was rough and dry. No, she didn't find any tears in herself to cry for the storyteller. The storyteller didn't exist anymore.

Abel put his hands on her shoulders. "You're cold. You're shivering." She nodded. "It's not important..." "Sure it is," and then, in a very low voice, with a private kind of smile, he said, "Rose girl, I told you the branches would wither and you would freeze. You wanted to stay on board..." Anna nodded. "I'm staying.

Anna watched as Abel walked across the empty schoolyard, she wondered whether there was a limit to desolation or whether it grew endlessly, infinitely. Desolation with a hundred faces and more, desolation of a hundred different kinds and more, like the color blue.

Part of her - unreasonable Anna- still loved him. Maybe she would never stop loving him.

The white noise from the old Walkman enveloped them both; like a blanket of new snow, it draped itself over them, shutting out all the curious looks. And the world under the blanket was - surprisingly, wonderfully - absolutely, quiet.

A story isn't a good one unless it has a good listener

Abel lifted her up - another gesture from former times, from when she'd been smaller - and carried her to the bathroom to find the Band-aid. Suddenly, Anna thought, she's growing up. One day, she'll be too big to be carried around like that. One day, he won't be able to hold onto her, she'll move on, and he'll be left all alone. Maybe the responsibility for Micha is more of an anchor than a burden. A lifeboat. A wooden plank to hold onto so you don't drown.

There are fewer answers in the world than questions, and if you ask me now why that is so, I must tell you that there is no answer to that question.

You can't change things. That's life. Poor stays poor, rich says rich, and those two, they will never meet.

She had taught herself how to knit, and for the mare's scarf - it was green - she had given herself the best grade possible. And ...' 'That's silly!' Micha giggled. 'Well, who is the cliff queen, you or me?' Abel asked. 'It isn't my fault if you're giving yourself grades!

They're the ones inside a soap bubble. Not me.

Anna," he said for the fourth time, as if there was nothing more to say, now that she'd finally answered. Nothing but her name. As if he'd just called to make sure she existed.

As long as you're better at it than skating...," Anna said and stood up too. She wanted to say more, but that wasn't possible because he was kissing her. Reasonable Anna wanted to draw back the danger of touch. But unreasonable Anna welcomed the kiss like happiness. Maybe, she thought, it's better to take these moments when you get them - there might not be too many in life.

Anna took his hand to gauge the swelling. 'Let's at least put something cold around it. Frozen peas work pretty well.' 'Do I have to eat them?' 'No, you just have to inject them into a vein,' Anna said.

Abel was brushing the snow off his parka while Micha was dancing around him, still balancing the plate of cookies, singing, 'We're staying, we're staying, we're staying overnight! We're drying! We're drying! We're drying on the line!

Adults were always quick to tell her how much she looked like her mother, and how little like her father. Though Anna thought that on the inside she was much more like him. There was this strong, unbreakable will in her to fight for something, somwhere. But where? for what? and against whom?

Sometimes I can't tell the difference anymore, between beauty and desolation. Isn't that weird? Sometimes I don't even know if I'm extremely happy or extremely sad. It happens a lot when I think of you.

When I say to the moment flying...linger a while-thou art so fair" - Faust

Get in," he told Nitish. "What, me?" "No," said Farhad, "one of the other twenty-six white tigers waiting to cross the river.

You don't understand at all. It doesn't matter what's true and what's a fairy tale. That's not what matters. The dividing lines aren't as straight and simple as you think. - Raka

The salty fluid of life... the crystal-clear blood of the earth... That's what it is, Farhad. Tears. - Nitish