It's not blood that makes us who we are," Dad said. "It's family. And it's not blood that makes us family. It's love.
Rose ChristoStichwörter: family
The shaman helps you figure it out. I already know what I'm going to be."
I prodded him in the ribs. He couldn't just leave me hanging like that.
"A speech therapist." he said.
The whole world could have stopped. I wouldn't have noticed.
Rafael gave me an unusually stoic look. "I'm going to get your voice back someday," he said. "I though that was obvious.
Stichwörter: love
I was going to punch the shit out him," he told me. I could feel his voice vibrating against my skin. "Luke. I didn't though. You know why?"
I'd wondered about that.
"You asked me not to. Last summer. Remember? You gave me that note. 'Stop punching people.' It's the only thing you've ever asked me to do. I can do that much for you. I think I'd do anything for you.
Stichwörter: love
I don't know what you're talking about. I just like animals," Rafael said. "So does Sky, except he's kind of a hippie soulbonder about it.
Rose ChristoStichwörter: humor
I picked up my flute and smiled, eyebrows dancing. "Why don't you show her your straight dance?"
"Is there a gay dance, too?" Mickey asked.
Stichwörter: humor
In Shoshone, there's a saying. It's a long one, and it doesn't have an English equivalent, so bear with me.
Sutummu tukummuinna. It means, I don't speak your language, and you don't speak mine. But I still understand you. I don't need to walk in your footsteps if I can see the footprints you left behind.
Stichwörter: proverb
I'm always gonna protect you. And I'm always gonna protect that little girl. There's no way in hell I'll let that woman get her hands on her."
"Rafael," I said.
"Yeah?"
"You are the most wonderful person I've ever known."
It took him a moment to answer me--and when he did, I though he sounded bashful.
"I'd better be," he said. "Because, you know. That's what you deserve.
Stichwörter: love
Seventeen years. That's how long I've known him. That's how long I've loved him. Seventeen years later and he still makes my heart feel giddy and weightless. Seventeen years later and my favorite place in the world is still the safety of his arms.
Seventeen years later and I'm still a sappy idiot. Go figure.
Stichwörter: love
A dam inside my own heart opened up, and the feelings of heaviness and unease lifted like wind against the winter sky. I loved him. I loved his slow wit and his gruff demeanor and his tender disposition. I loved his endless empathy and his world-weary cynicism and his innocence. I loved that he was a walking, breathing paradox. I loved his lank hair and his iron earring and the tooth missing at the back of his mouth. I loved the way he laughed, music incomparable to any song, and the way he smiled, like you could see the child in him and the animal in him and the man in him all at once. I loved that he listened to crappy music, the kind that made me want to put my head through a wall, and I loved the charcoal stains on his knuckles and the pencils he tucked behind his ears. I loved that he told me to shut up as though I could actually say anything. I loved that he made me feel as though I could. I loved his short fingers and his rough palms and his long legs and his flat belly. I loved that he liked to read Kerouac but didn't know how to pronounce Kerouac. I loved his brown skin and his blue tattoos and his tempestuous blue eyes. I loved that he loved the land. I loved him. I loved him. Oh, God. I loved him.
Rose ChristoStichwörter: love
You ought to sue."
"I don't know how to sew. I tried it once and I almost put my eye out."
If there is one thing Sahara Soto and Kerry Thompson have in common, it's their complete idiocy. In the girl's case, it's endearing.
Stichwörter: humor
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