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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.

Melina Marchetta

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Melina Marchetta
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: March 25
Screenwriter
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Carmelina Marchetta
Wind
Coat
Hear
Sang
Sound
Coats
Taunted
Running
Sounds
Beckoned
Wanted
Towards
Lucian
Distance
Enveloped
Mountain
Fleece
Safe
Whistle

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Girls under the age of fourteen are the most frightening creatures I have ever come across. - Jonah Griggs
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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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All I need to understand is the unwritten law of warriors, he said firmly. And women and children are never sent to do our work without our protection. He pointed to the trees, emphatically. That's the language I share with them.
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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.
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He watched as Finnikin swung onto the horse, his sleeve stained with blood. Froi liked the way Finnikin reached behind him and took Evanjalin's hand, placing it around his waist. It made everything seem normal because Finnikin always wanted to touch her.
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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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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 [...]
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He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Okay, would you like pizza? I don't think you deserve my company but I feel sorry for you so I'll say yes. God help me, he said, half under his breath.
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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.
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Because being part of him isn't just anything. It's kind of everything.
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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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I hope you're not smoking in front of her,' Lucia says to him. 'Yeah, I lie in bed and puff in her face, Lucia,' he says, irritated.
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Tom always did anger well. Hid it well, but showed it even better
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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.
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I heard your song the moment we were born. And years later, it dragged me back from the lake of the half-dead when all I wanted to do was die. Each time someone tried to kill me, it sang its tune and gave me hope.
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Left alone with the dial tone...excuse me, operator, why is no one listening?
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I would pick them when they bloomed. And when she called me home for supper, I'd place them in her hair and the contrast would take my breath away.
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Great to know that I'm in love with a girl with a cool name. It's Taylor's middle name.
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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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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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