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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 [...]
Melina Marchetta
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Melina Marchetta
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: March 25
Screenwriter
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Carmelina Marchetta
Giving
Cutting
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Says
Chance
Learn
Hands
Able
Live
Finger
Without
Fingers
More quotes by Melina Marchetta
It’s Tolstoy, by the way,” I say as I open the door. He turns around. “What?” Shut up, I tell myself. Shut up. “The writer of Anna Karenina. Not Trotsky. Trotsky was a revolutionary who was stabbed with a pickax in Mexico in 1940. But I can understand how the T thing could confuse you.
Melina Marchetta
So between you and me, I tell Justine on the phone that night, we're either bitchy or stupid. Oh God, she moans. Everyone thinks I'm an idiot. Thanks!
Melina Marchetta
Josie, life is not a Mills and Boon book. People fall out of love. People disappoint other people and they find it very hard to forgive.
Melina Marchetta
Logical Tom begs emotional stupid dickhead Tom not to ask the question. 'Are you alone?' he asks quietly. He hears her breathing so close to his ear. 'Yes.' 'Good,' he says, his voice croaky. 'I'll sleep like a baby.
Melina Marchetta
Don't ever ask me again if I hate living anywhere with you and Jasmina. This Rock reminds me of the boy I was and being with you in the palace reminds me of the man I want to be.' 'Not just any man,' she whispered. 'A King. Mine.
Melina Marchetta
Don't let me outlive this woman. Don't let me exist one moment without her.
Melina Marchetta
I look at him. It's odious, he says. Detention? I ask, confused. Huh? We have no idea what the other is talking about. What's odious? I ask. O.D.S, he says, pointing to his discman and obviously referring to some dropkick band. Like I really care.
Melina Marchetta
And I hear nothing because it's like the volume button has been turned down on our lives and nobody has anything to say anymore. I want to be an adjective again. But I am a noun.
Melina Marchetta
But you're almost eighteen. You're old enough. Everyone else is doing it. And next year someone is going to say to someone else 'but you're only sixteen, everyone else is doing it' Or one day someone will tell your daughter that she's only thirteen and everyone else is doing it. I don't want to do it because everyone else is doing it.
Melina Marchetta
If I want more, I need to go and get it, demand it, take hold of it with all my might, and do the best I can with it.
Melina Marchetta
And being that happy makes me feel guilty. Because I shouldn't be. Not while my mum is feeling the way she is. How I can dare to be happy is beyond me, and I hate my guts for it.
Melina Marchetta
She misses him more now than when he was away
Melina Marchetta
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.
Melina Marchetta
What were you doing with her? I ask quietly. Apart from questioning her about your whereabouts, I was listening to the most intriguing story about my life moonlighting as a kidnapper.
Melina Marchetta
he knew that a part of his life was complete and that whatever path he chose, he would experience the ache of unfulfilled dreams.
Melina Marchetta
No, no, no, no,no,' he gasped. 'You can't bring up your mum and dad while your hand is down there, Finke
Melina Marchetta
He came third in the state for woodwork,” Francesca explains. “We actually had to be proud of him for a whole week. Tough times.
Melina Marchetta
I don't want to let go, because tonight I'm not looking for anything more than being part of him. Because being part of him isn't just anything. It's kind of everything.
Melina Marchetta
The string slices into the skin of his fingers and no matter how tough the calluses, it tears. But this beat is fast and even though his joints are aching, his arm's out of control like it has a mind of its own and the sweat tat drenches his hair and face seems to smother him, but nothing's going to stop Tom. Hes aiming for oblivion.
Melina Marchetta
Back in Georgie's attic, he yanks the phone out of the socket and begins scrolling down the names under dialed calls, praying to anyone who will listen. God. Baby Jesus. Saint Thomas the doubter. Saint Whoever, patron saint of losers. Praying, Please, please, don't let it be true. The first name shatters him. The second makes his head spin.
Melina Marchetta