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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

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Melina Marchetta
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: March 25
Screenwriter
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Carmelina Marchetta
Question
Quietly
Says
Logical
Sleep
Breathing
Alone
Ears
Asks
Close
Dickhead
Voice
Baby
Begs
Good
Emotional
Hears
Like
Stupid
Toms

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She was the most beautiful woman in the world. If she was alive I'd probably be a better person.
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Where did this come from? Do you know what this is? Luca is going to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night and squirt it on his tongue. It's like drugs for ten-year-olds. Today it's Ice Magic. Tomorrow, heroin.
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Just ask how I'm feeling, I want to say. Just ask and I may tell you. But no one does.
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You can't go around feeling too much.
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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.
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Do something that scares you everyday.
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Play me something that makes me feel This soul inside me is made of steel. Brain is breathing, but heart’s not beating And, babe, I need you to make things real. Walk inside me without silence, Kill the past and change the tense. Empty gnawing and the ache is soaring Take me places that make more sense.
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We look at each other for a moment and for once I feel awkward. It's not that I'm not into humility I've just never had to practise it.
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A piece of me is gone, she told me once while we were bra shopping. I think we're made up of all these different pieces and every time someone goes, you're left with less of yourself.
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Causing a riot is what I do best.
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God knows what possessed me, but having that science book in my hand propelled me to immediate action. So I hit her with it.
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Living is the challenge. Not dying. Dying is so easy. Sometimes it only takes ten seconds to die. But living? That can take you eighty years and you do something in that time.
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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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Lucian was beginning to get used to hearing her small observations at night. More than anything, he realized he liked her voice in the dark. It made him feel less lonely.
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There are worse things than a lie and there are better things than the truth!
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Teresa, Teresa. Have we taught you nothing? Raffy says in an irritated voice. It's war. You go in and you hunt him down until he realises that he's made a mistake.
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It's like you have a plan and someone comes along and makes you want to change it all, but you still like your first plan, no matter how fantastic the second one makes you feel.
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Don't let me outlive this woman. Don't let me exist one moment without her.
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I don't say anything and he casually leans against my desk, picking up the novel that's sitting there. It's bullshit, he tells me, flicking through it. There's no such thing as Atticus Finch. I shrug. It'd be nice if there was, though.
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I live on the Jellicoe Road. Where trees make canopies over-head and where you can sit at the top of them and see forever.
Melina Marchetta