Quotes from Melina Marchetta

He took her face in his bloody hands. "I'll come and find you wherever you are. I'll not stop breathing until I do. So you're going to have to promise me that you won't lose hope. That you will keep yourself alive.

She's tired and leans her head on his shoulder, which is the resting place for all their heads, but when Justine and Siobhan and Francesca use his body so shamelessly he doesn't feel the need to turn his head and press his mouth against their hair.

Our spirit is mightier than the filth of our memories.

I want to tell him that deep down each time Hannah looked at him she was grateful it was him because Jude did something that the others didn't. He came back for her.

He takes out a cigarette and offers one to me. "I try not to indulge. It's a filthy habit," I tell him. "I love that word filthy. I love the way you force it out of your mouth like it's some kind of vermin you want to get rid of." "You've had vermin in your mouth?" "You're mean in that way, you know. You don't let anyone get away with pathetic analogies.

Silence is not just about secrecy, Your Majesty. It is grief and it is shame.

I think I'm a bit in love with these girls. They make me feel giddy. Like I haven't a care in the world. Like I'm fearless. Like I used to be.

We were playing Rock, Paper, Scissors," she told him once. "I was paper and she was rock so I lived and she died.

I just want it to go back to the way it was." "It'll never go back to the way it was, Frankie. But you have to make sure it goes forward.

Go to hell," he said, but there was a desolate fear in his eyes and I couldn't look away. "Been there. Trust me. It's so overrated.

That someone can want something out of another person who gives absolutely nothing in return astounds me.

In the games of queens and kings, we leave our dreams at the door and we make do with what we have. Sometimes if we're fortunate, we still manage to have a good life.

What happens when she's not my memory anymore? What happens when she's not around to tell me about his belt leaving scars across my two-year-old brother's face or when he whacked her so hard that she lost her hearing for a week? Who'll be my memory?" Santangelo doesn't miss a beat. "I will. Ring me." "Same," Raffy says. I look at him. I can't even speak because if I do I know I'll cry but I smile and he knows what I'm thinking.

You list the dead. You tell the stories of the past. You write about the catastrophes and the massacres. What about the living, Finnikin? Who honors them?

And at that moment Jude thought something that he would never forgive himself for. He wished that he had never met any of them.

Near the window, Finnikin stood with both hands against the wall, his head bent over her. As always, the intimacy between them made Froi ache. "I promise you," Finnikin said. "I've already shouted at her and used a very, very reprimanding tone." "I was quivering," the Queen said, stepping out from behind Finnikin.

then she was laughing. They both were, and the savage teeth were the most joyous sight Phaedra had seen for a long time. It was as if they were dancing. There it was. Suddenly the strangeness of Quintana of Charyn's face made sense. Because it was a face meant for laughing, but it had never been given a chance.

Do I have to be here to belong to you?' Froi asked. 'Can't I belong to you wherever I am?

I remember love. It's what I have to keep on reminding myself. It's funny how you can forget everything except people loving you. Maybe that's why humans find it so hard getting over love affairs. It's not the pain they're getting over, it's the love.

Phaedra shook her head. "If your people mean no offense, they should not speak their thoughts out loud in front of their children, Tesadora. Because it will be their children who come to slaughter us one day, all because of careless words passed down by their elders who meant no harm.

People aren't interested in the truth, Dafar. They're interested in what keeps them safe. They're interested in being looked after. They're interested in a tale being spun... Mighty men have moments of great despair that common people do not want to know about.

He took my hand, made me stand on the branch and asked, "What can you see from here?" "Nothing" I said, "Know what I can see? From this distance everything is so bloody perfect".

No chance. It'd be like cutting off our hands." "Then learn to live without your hands." "No, because then we won't be able to do this," Ben says, giving him the finger [...]

It's called peaceful coexistence, Santangelo. You should try it and if it works we may sell the idea to the Israelis and Palestinians