Look at me, he said to her. His arms and legs jerked. Look at me. You got your wish. I have learned how to love. And it’s a terrible thing. I’m broken. My heart is broken. Help me. The old woman turned and hobbled away. Come back, thought Edward. Fix me
Kate DiCamilloI bet you didn’t think I’d come back. But here I am. I come to save you.” Too late, thought Edward as Bryce climbed the pole and worked at the wires that were tied around his wrists. I am nothing but a hollow rabbit. Too late, thought Edward as Bryce pulled the nails out of his ears. I am only a doll made of china. But when the last nail was out and he fell forward into Bryce’s arms, the rabbit felt a rush of relief, and the feeling of relief was followed by one of joy. Perhaps, he thought, it is not too late, after all, for me to be saved.
Kate DiCamilloGo ahead, Marlene, thought Edward. Push me around. Do with me as you will. What does it matter? I am broken. Broken.
Kate DiCamilloEdward thought about everything that had happened to him in his short life. What kind of adventures would you have if you were in the world for a century? The old doll said, “I wonder who will come for me this time. Someone will come. Someone always comes. Who will it be?” “I don’t care if anyone comes for me,” said Edward. “But that’s dreadful,” said the old doll. “There’s no point in going on if you feel that way. No point at all. You must be filled with expectancy. You must be awash in hope. You must wonder who will love you, whom you will love next.” “I am done with being loved,” Edward told her. “I’m done with loving. It’s too painful.” “Pish,” said the old doll. “Where is your courage?” “Somewhere else, I guess,” said Edward. “You disappoint me,” she said. “You disappoint me greatly. If you have no intention of loving or being loved, then the whole journey is pointless. You might as well leap from this shelf right now and let yourself shatter into a million pieces. Get it over with. Get it all over with now.” “I would leap if I was able,” said Edward. “Shall I push you?” said the old doll
Kate DiCamilloSEASONS PASSED, FALL AND WINTER and spring and summer. Leaves blew in through the open door of Lucius Clarke’s shop, and rain, and the green outrageous hopeful light of spring. People came and went, grandmothers and doll collectors and little girls with their mothers. Edward Tulane waited. The seasons turned into years. Edward Tulane waited. He repeated the old doll’s words over and over until they wore a smooth groove of hope in his brain: Someone will come; someone will come for you.
Kate DiCamilloMelancholy", I repeated. I liked the way it sounded, like there was music hidden somewhere inside it. Kate Di Camillo, Because of Winn Dixie
Kate DiCamilloHyperbole is sometimes necessary to get at the truth. (It seems odd, doesn't it, that we have to lie to tell the truth better?)
Kate DiCamilloWhat is?', he said. 'What if?' is a question that belongs to magic.
Kate DiCamilloMots clés magic
There ain't no point in making soup unless others eat it. Soup needs another mouth to taste it, another heart to be warmed by it.
Kate DiCamilloMots clés food
Putting on socks is hard work," said Bink. "I'm hungry.
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