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I recognise Santangelo's dad, who saves police brutality for when he gets to his son.

Melina Marchetta

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Melina Marchetta
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: March 25
Screenwriter
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Carmelina Marchetta
Saves
Brutality
Recognise
Police
Dad
Son
Gets

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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?
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A home to come back to every day of their lives. Where they would all belong or long to be. A place on the Jellicoe Road.
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I wasn't there that day to get on the three forty-seven to Yass, he says. I was there to throw myself in front of it.
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In a kinder world, he whispered, one I promise you I've seen, men and women flirt and dance and love with only the fear of what it would mean without the other in their lives.
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The people I'm stuck with in my life now aren't sucking the life out of me, they just suck.
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Who do you hang out with? Natalia asks, looking over my shoulder. She's always done that. Wherever you are, whoever you are, she'll always look over your shoulder to see if there's someone more exciting to speak to. It used to make me feel paranoid.
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I'll run one day. Run for my life. To be free and think for myself...I'll run to be emancipated.
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What kind of freak is this kid who's giggling hysterically with the girls in the neighbouring beds, each with a crush on the other for being the same age when the rest of the world seems so old?
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I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Griggs. Anson Choi feigns surprise. What's her name? I didn't actually catch her name, Griggs continues. Lily, Raffaela says over her shoulder and this time I give her a sideways look. Great to know that I'm in love with a girl with a cool name. It's Taylor's middle name, Raffaela calls bac
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Do you miss being friends with Santangelo? I ask her after the lights are out and we're almost asleep. What makes you think were friends? Everything. I hear her yawn. Being enemies with him is better. she tells me. There's a long pause and I think she's going to say something more but she doesn't and it's just silence for a long whil
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Simple dreams are the hardest to come true
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Whatever is now covered up will be uncovered and every secret will be made known.
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We were playing Rock, Paper, Scissors, she told him once. I was paper and she was rock so I lived and she died.
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So, like I asked, what’s with the nightie?” “It smells like what I always think mothers smell like,” I tell him honestly, knowing I don’t have to explain. He nods. “My mum has one just the same and you have no idea how disturbing it is that it’s turning me on.
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Men don't rape women because their women are ugly, cousin Jostien said, but there was a protest at his words. That's what my fa said! He says that inside their hearts and spirits they are nothing but little men who need to feel powerful.
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You go shake your foundations, Will. I think it's about time I saved myself.
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Up in the distance the whistle of the wind sang to her from the mountain. From Lucian’s mountain. It beckoned and taunted and she wanted to run towards it. To be enveloped in its coat of fleece and to hear its safe sounds.
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You shy, Francesca?” Javier asks me later on. I shake my head. “Not really.” I’m just sad, I want to say. And I’m lonely.
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It's like geographical humor. You just don't get it unless you were there.
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It's too late. Seventeen-year-olds don't need fathers. Oh god. I'm thirty-four years old and I need a father. I can't even begin to think what my daughter needs.
Melina Marchetta