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.
Mots clés 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 LevineMots clés 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 LevineMots clés 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 LevineMots clés childhood adulthood bridge
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