I don't say anything and he casually leans against my desk, picking up the novel that's sitting there. "It's bullshit," he tells me, flicking through it. "There's no such thing as Atticus Finch." I shrug. "It'd be nice if there… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
Some of us weren't born for rewards, Froi. We were born for sacrifices. — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
I'm very disturbed to find out that the leader of the Townies has a soul and I'm beginning to develop a bit of a… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
In the games of queens and kings, we leave our dreams at the door and we make do with what we have. Sometimes if… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
And then you came along and you spoke to me and nobody had looked me in the eye for years. (...) But I remember you that day and you looked at peace with yourself and it made me reconsider everything I had planned to do. Because I thought to myself, you can't do this to her, not after the Hermit… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share
Do you want to know something about tyrants? When faced with death, they weep and they beg just like the rest of us. — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
“you do that all the time you know. you ask me questions when you know the answer will piss you off. ask me a question where the answer could be yes? ask me if you're worth the hard work? ask me if in the last seven years of my life i've woken up in a cold sweat knowing i lost… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share
I need voices of reason and of hysteria and of empathy. I need to have an Alanis moment. I need advice from Elizabeth Bennett.… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
“When I saw "Ulysses" on Georgie's bedside table and Tom Finch's name written on it in a scrawl so like my old man's, I felt that I wanted to read it as a preparation for what's about to happen to us all. I understand where the brawny part of my father and I come from - Bill. I'm not saying… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share
“Our bodies aren't strangers,' he said, his voice ragged. 'Our spirits aren't strangers'. He held her face in his hands. 'Tell me what part… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
Phaedra of Alonso’s death was a never-ending pain that gnawed at his insides. It made him a prisoner in his own cottage. — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
You know what? You didn't do anything wrong. I did. It's this dumb thing I do. I look into things and see more than… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
Everything's going to be fine. She'll be back at work soon. Let's just keep the house clean." Oh yeah, I want to say, because… — Melina Marchetta Copy Share Image
