She looked at her hand: Just some hand, holding a cheap pen. Some girls’ hand. She had nothing to do with that hand. Let that hand do whatever it wanted to.
Cynthia VoigtTag: writing freedom rape angst girl pen teen incest
Dicey looked out over the tall marsh grasses, blowing in the wind. If the wind blew, the grasses had to bend with it.
Cynthia VoigtI have the feeling that I know who I am, only I'm not anymore.
Cynthia VoigtIs there such a thing?' Birle asked.
He looked thoughtfully at her, but not as if he saw her. 'Men have dreamed of it, although none has ever held it in his hand, not to my knowledge. I cannot say that there is such a thing, no. But equally I cannot say there is not. Why should a man be able to dream of it if it cannot be? If it is so impossible, then what put's it into a man's mind? Greed puts many things into men's mind, and fear does too. But men dream of other things, as well-- of justice, of the lost golden age, of an order to their world... of medicine to cure all sickness...
People had no more choice than animals about the burdens they carried.
Cynthia Voigt...When this map was made, there was only empty forest in the south," Gran told Birle.
"Not empty," Granda corrected her. "The forest is never empty.
I got to thinking—when it was too late—you have to reach out to people. To your family, too. You can't just let them sit there, you should put your hand out. If they slap it back, well you reach out again if you care enough. If you don't care enough, you forget about them, if you can.
Cynthia VoigtMina wanted some of the kind of love Momma gave to her children, where love was the first and deepest thing, and the questions came later and the answers wouldn't matter much measured up against the love.
Cynthia VoigtTag: parenting
Mina wanted some of the kind of love Momma gave to her children, wheere love was the first and deepest thing, and the questions came later and the answers wouldn't matter much measured up against the love.
Cynthia VoigtTag: parenting
Even after everyone had gone home, the house was filled with the good time they’d had, as if it could linger in the air like the voices and music lingered in memory. Mina wrapped the memory up and put it in her heart; there was a quiet gladness, deep like a tree and tall in her
Cynthia VoigtTag: memory
« prima precedente
Pagina 2 di 3.
prossimo ultimo »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.