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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.
Melina Marchetta
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Melina Marchetta
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: March 25
Screenwriter
Writer
Sydney
NSW
Carmelina Marchetta
Later
Head
Asks
Really
Francesca
Shy
Shake
Shakes
Lonely
More quotes by Melina Marchetta
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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She asked me what type of contraceptive I use. Underwear. Keeping it on prevents pregnancy.
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She misses him more now than when he was away
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Because today, I think I'm leaning on the side of wonder.
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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.
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We're so different. You're an intellectual. I'm an idiot. Don't say that, I yelled. You're not an idiot, you stupid idiot.
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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.
Melina Marchetta
I ran away one day. He was running in the same direction.
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I need voices of reason and of hysteria and of empathy. I need to have an Alanis moment. I need advice from Elizabeth Bennett. I need Tim Tams and comfort food.
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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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You're judging her by her literacy,' Tara says. 'You're a literacist.' 'You've made that up.' Thomas Mackee packs up his stuff and stands up. 'You chicks give me the shits,' he says. 'You, on the other hand, brighten up our day,' I tell him. 'We all regard you as a god.
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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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I shrug. I'll probably mention that I'm in love with you. He chuckles. Only you would say that in such a I-think-I'll-wash-my-hair-tonight tone.
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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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Because without our language, we have lost ourselves. Who are we without our words?
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No. But it's like the argument `don't donate to third-world countries because the money mightn't get to them.' People only say that because it makes them feel better about the fact that they do nothing.
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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.
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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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In the end, the sum of my vices is all me.
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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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