She asks why I like her.
Might as well ask
Why I breathe.
Maybe tomorrow I won't
Breathe or like her
Anymore.
Maybe tomorrow the tides
Will stop.
Maybe tomorrow will bring
No more rainbows.
Maybe tomorrow
She will stop
Asking useless questions.
Stichwörter: poem
I wished she’d never stop squeezing me. I wished I could spend the rest of my life as a child, being slightly crushed by someone who loved me.
Gail Carson LevineI put my fingers around the unmarked ring of the spyglass and twisted. The scene became clear.
Oh no! A hairy brown spider clung to a vine! I couldn't go there!
I'd go to the desert to find a dragon. I began to reset the spyglass, but then I stopped myself. A spider was worse than a dragon?
No.
My first monsters would be spiders, then.
Luck was with me. I saw no spiders.
Luck was against me. I saw no specters.
That's funny, you're funny. I like you, I'm quite taken by you.
Gail Carson LevineI shan't marry a prince!
Gail Carson LevineNo, I won't marry you. I won't do it. No one can force me.
Gail Carson LevineWhen I write, I make discoveries about my feelings.
Gail Carson LevineStichwörter: write feelings discoveries
There's nothing wrong with reading a book you love over and over. When you do, the words get inside you, become a part of you, in a way that words in a book you've read only once can't.
Gail Carson LevineStichwörter: words reading books re-reading
When you become a teenager, you step onto a bridge. You may already be on it. The opposite shore is adulthood. Childhood lies behind. The bridge is made of wood. As you cross, it burns behind you
Gail Carson LevineStichwörter: childhood adulthood bridge
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