The Boy and His Ribbon Sözleri ve Alıntıları
The Boy and His Ribbon sözleri ve alıntılarını, The Boy and His Ribbon kitap alıntılarını, The Boy and His Ribbon en etkileyici cümleleri ve paragragları 1000Kitap'ta bulabilirsiniz.
I tried not to smile or laugh in sheer pleasure at being away from cruel people and rotten societies.
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A wish was hope, and hope killed you faster than anything.
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Love was simple with one rule: if you hurt the person you love, it would be as bad as hurting yourself.
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I didn’t want people to know me.
That was where danger lay.
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That cracking pain. That nicking, awful slicing has become horribly familiar to me now. I suppose my predicament could be seen as terribly romantic or horrendously stupid. You’d think, after almost two decades of agony, I would’ve outgrown it by now…turns out, I’m stupid because I can’t stop it.
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I hated being surrounded by people.
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In the middle of a manic Halloween party filled with Frankensteins and vampires and zombies, I knew the second the matching piece of my heart arrived.
Sad right?
Poetic?
Star-crossed?
Screwed up?
Probably all the above.
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Now we slipped into yet another fight, and I was tired of fighting. Tired of miscommunication and walking on eggshells.
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The longer we chose trees to house us and stayed alive by hunting and foraging, the less fit for society I became.
I adored the open air, freedom, and ability to do whatever I wanted whenever I pleased.
I loved jumping in the river naked. I loved napping under a bush with the sun kissing my skin. I loved being quiet and not having to fight to survive.
Life away from people was the easiest path I’d ever chosen, and I wouldn’t give that up.
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There are so many moments to sift through that it’s like cracking open a jewellery box after decades of dust, pulling out gemstones and diamonds, and struggling to choose what to wear. That was what he did to me, you see? He made my entire life a jewellery box of special, sad, hard, happy, incredible moments that I want to wear each and every day.
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Because I’m still here…alone…writing this sorry excuse of a story, pretending I can conjure him from nothing, desperately loving a memory, and killing myself with the knowledge that no matter how much I write about him. No matter what tales I tell you or secrets I spill, he’s not going to be there to tell me off. He’s not going to scold me for telling the truth. He’s not going to notice or care. I no longer need to pretend I don’t love him. I don’t need to lie that I don’t want him.
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No amount of chest rubbing or false soothing can cut away the pain growing like a cancer inside me.
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...it had showed me that I would never be allowed the one thing I wanted with all my heart.
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Her quick-fire affection always melted my gruff heart, and she was the only one who could touch something inside me—slipping past my walls, infiltrating my fortresses to remind me that I might not like many humans but I loved one more than I could stand.
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chapter four **REN**2000**
I’d hoped by spreading out my worldly possessions, I would see an alternative for their use or have an epiphany on how to make life better. How to actually survive rather than continue what we were doing and slowly dying day by day.