Wintergirls
Laurie Halse AndersonWintergirls Gönderileri
Wintergirls kitaplarını, Wintergirls sözleri ve alıntılarını, Wintergirls yazarlarını, Wintergirls yorumları ve incelemelerini 1000Kitap'ta bulabilirsiniz.
Cutting pain was a different flavor of hurt. It made it easier not to think about having my body and my family and my life stolen, made it easier not to care. . . .
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There is grease on the stove, blood in the air, and angry words piled in the corners. We are trained not to see it, not to see any of it.
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2018’DE OKUDUĞUM EN İYİ KİTAPLAR
1- 
Yabana Doğru
2- 
Yabani Gerçek
3- 
Nietzsche Ağladığında
4- 
Algernon'a Çiçekler
5- 
Bin Muhteşem Güneş
6- 
Girl In Pieces
7- 
A Quiet Kind of Thunder
8- 
The Paper Swan
9- 
Because You'll Never Meet Me
10- 
Nowhere Near You
11- 
Blankets
12- 
Her Şey
13- 
İyi Kız
14- 
The Boy and His Ribbon
15- 
Gri Gölgeler Arasında
16- 
Serbest Düşüş
17- 
Ren and Della
18- 
The Sun Is Also a Star
19- 
Her Favorite Color Was Yellow
20- 
Sea Prayer
21- 
Doğmuş Olmanın Sakıncası Üstüne
24- 
Hamlet
25- 
Uçurtma Avcısı
26- 
Wintergirls
27- 
Bibliyomani
28- 
Made You Up
Eating was hard. Breathing was hard. Living was hardest.
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that’s the problem. When you’re alive, people can hurt you. It’s easier to crawl into a bone cage or a snowdrift of confusion. It’s easier to lock everybody out.
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Be careful what you wish for. There’s always a catch.
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In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves, and sometimes we do such a good job, we lose track of reality.
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Dr. Parker hands me the cup. “Tea,” she says. “Always helps.”
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stopped eating, stopped drinking, cut and cut to make her go away, to make everything go away. How nothing works. Rain, rain, rain pours down my face, nearly drowning me.
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I can’t tell anymore when I’m asleep and when I’m awake, or which is worse.
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I am locked into the mirror and there is no door out.
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I cut.
The first incision runs from my neck to just below my heart, deep enough so that I can finally feel something, not deep enough to flay me open. The pain flows like lava and takes my breath away. The knife carves a path in the flesh between two ribs, then, between the two ribs below that. Fat drops of blood splash on the counter, ripe red seeds. I am so very, very strong, so iron-boned and magic that the knife draws a third line between two ribs, straight and true. Blood pools in the bowls of my hips and drips to the tile floor. Black holes open in front of my eyes and the wild bird trapped in my heart beats her wings frantically.
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