Meşhur bir Yeni Türkü şarkısı olan bu şiiri tanıdınız mı?
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as
Complete Poems: 1904-1962 by E. E. Cummings, edited by George J.
“I don't like you, Park," she said, sounding for a second like she actually meant it. "I..." - her voice nearly disappeared - "think I live for you."
He closed his eyes and pressed his head back into his pillow.
"I don't think I even breathe when we're not together," she whispered. "Which means, when I see you on Monday morning, it's been like sixty hours since I've taken a breath. That's probably why I'm so crabby, and why I snap at you. All I do when we're apart is think about you, and all I do when we're together is panic. Because every second feels so important. And because I'm so out of control, I can't help myself. I'm not even mine anymore, I'm yours, and what if you decide that you don't want me? How could you want me like I want you?"
He was quiet. He wanted everything she'd just said to be the last thing he heard. He wanted to fall asleep with 'I want you' in his ears.
"Nothing before you counts," he said. "And I can't even imagine an after."
He knows I'll like a song before I've heard it. He laughs before I even get to punchline. There's a place on his chest, just below his throat, that makes me want to let him open doors for me.
“If you couldn’t save your own life, was it even worth saving?”
"Are you okay?" she heard someone -Levi?- ask. "Hey... are you crying?"
Cath ran her fingers along the cover, over the raised gold type.
Then someone else ran right into her, pushing the book into Cath's chest. Pushing two books into her chest. Cath looked up just as Wren threw an arm around her.
"They're both crying," Cath heard Reagan say. "I can't even watch."
Cath freed an arm to wrap around her sister. "I can't believe it's really over," she whispered.
Wren held her tight and shook her head. She really was crying, too. "Don't be so melodramatic, Cath," Wren laughed hoarsely. "It's never over... It's Simon."
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