Melina Marchetta

“When your're both finished trying to frighten each other away with the sordidness of your pasts, can you help me, please?”

“Well, I'm not sure what suspicious looks like. Sometimes when you come down the mountain and stand behind those trees, you look suspicious.”

“I didn't realize until those few days how much a hug meant. To have someone hold you could be the greatest medicine of all.”

“Phaedra shook her head. “If your people mean no offense, they should not speak their thoughts out loud in front of their children, Tesadora. Because it will be their children who come to slaughter us one day, all because of careless words passed down by their elders who meant no harm.”

“It's not that I like you least [...] it's that I feared you most. The reginita taught me to like you. There was a strange joy to her that lifted my spirits. But you, Quintana of Charyn, you made me love you.”

“And when Finnikin grabbed her to him and buried his face in her neck and then bent down and placed his mouth on hers, the others pretended that there was something very interesting happening in the meadow. The priest-king even pointed at the nothing they were pretending to see. But Froi didn’t. He just watched the way Finnikin’s hands rested on Evanjalin’s neck and he rubbed his thumb along her jaw and the way his tongue seemed to disappear inside her mouth as if he needed a part of her to breathe himself. And Froi wondered what Evanjalin was saying against Finnikin’s lips when they stopped because whatever the words were it made them start all over again and this time their hunger for each other was so frightening to watch that it made Froi look away.”

“Woman, I’m trying to fight here! Or has that escaped your attention?”

“Oh, you're one of those,' the princess said.'One of what?''One of those who needs to be told their worth over and over by others. Do you know who tells me my worth, Phaedra of Alonso?'The princess pointed a hard finger at her own chest. 'Me. I determine my own worth. If I had to rely on others I'd have lain down and died waiting.”

“You shy, Francesca?” Javier asks me later on.I shake my head. “Not really.” I’m just sad, I want to say. And I’m lonely.”

“It's like geographical humor. You just don't get it unless you were there.”

“I’m frightened that one morning there will not be enough to keep me going.”

“Oh, the way that word is thrown around!” she said. “Everything is evil that humans can’t control or conquer.”

“I reach the bottom and smash into him with my fists as hard as I can. He falls and I can't believe he goes down that easy, caught off balance."You care about nothing, you piece of shit!"I'm on the verge of tears, like I always seem to be these days, and I hear the catch in my voice and I hate myself for it. He throws me off him and I can tell there is a fury in him."Never," he tells me in a tone full of ice, "under-estimate who or what I care for.”

“I can’t and won’t write without hope.I’d rather never write again.”

“Froi heard Zabat's voice echo over and over again throughout the gorge. Wonderful. The gods had found a way of multiplying the idiot's voice.”

“You're going to set us all on fire, you homicidal feral fruitcake.”

“The chorus of disapproval is like one of those formula songs that seem to hit number one all the time. You know the tune in a moment and it begins to bore you in two.”

“Imagine who she would be if we unleashed her onto the world. I think she would rip the breath from all of us.”

“Finnikin waited, thinking of all the things he had to tell her.That perhaps he was the resurdus of Seranonna's prophecy, the one to break the spell at the main gate. And that she, Evanjalin, was the light of his sometimes very dark heart who would lead him.Then he heard the crunch of footsteps and she was there and he opened his coat and wrapped her inside, holding her tight until the beat of their hearts slowed to the same pace and her lips were against the base of his throat.”

“She gently placed his hand against the beating pulse of her heart. Always, always it beat out of control, and he held his hand to it until he felt it perfectly match his.”

“See them together and you will feel a force that will take your breath away.”

“He watched as Finnikin swung onto the horse, his sleeve stained with blood. Froi liked the way Finnikin reached behind him and took Evanjalin's hand, placing it around his waist. It made everything seem normal because Finnikin always wanted to touch her.”

“..I need to know that I can still breathe properly when he's not around.”

“She clutched him, her fingers digging in like she needed to gather parts of him to act as her own second skin for the rest of her life.”

“The king died last. They made him watch and what he did to those princesses and his queen I will never repeat as long as I live. But Isaboe knows, for she walked the sleep of a monster who was witness to it, and if I could have one wish in my life," he said through gritted teeth, "it would be that I could tear from her mind the memory such depravity. Sweet Goddess, that I would have such a gift. I would give my life for it." And then he was sobbing, despairing at his uselessness.”

“I can live without you,’ she said. ‘I can live without a man I’ve only known for one hundred and eighty days.’‘And how have those calculations helped?’ he demanded to know.She didn’t respond except for a look down her nose at him and a curl of her lip. So much for the angry half-spirits being responsible for the savages within them both. This was pure Quintana. ‘Then step away,’ he taunted. ‘If you can live without me, step away.’He felt her warm breath on his throat.‘Because you can’t,’ he said. ‘You think you can, but we’re bound, and not just by the gods or by a curse or even by our son. We are bound by our free will. And you can’t step away, because you are not willing.’He bent, his mouth close to hers.‘Step away,’ he whispered. ‘If you step away I’ll learn from you. I’ll find the desire in me to live without you. Much the same as you want to live without me.”

“Don’t look down,’ Perabo warned them when they almost reached the top and the view from the archways became imposing. Froi sensed Perabo was instructing himself more than the others.‘You obviously haven’t been imprisoned on the roof of a castle in the Citavita, Perabo,’ Lirah said.‘Or hung upside down over a balconette staring down into the gravina, waiting to die,’ Gargarin added.‘Nothing worse than being chained to the balconette with your head facing down over that abyss,’ Arjuro joined in, not one to be outdone in the misery stakes.‘Try balancing on a piece of granite between the godshouse and the palace with nothing beneath you but air,’ Froi said.Perabo stopped and took a deep breath and looked as if he was going to be sick.‘Don’t look down, Perabo,’ Froi advised.”

“Their bedroom has always been our sanctuary. Sometimes at night we'll end up on their bed just talking. My dad will be snoring and Mia will say, "Turn around, Bobby, you're snoring," and he'll turn around and for a moment it'll be silent. Then he'll erupt into a massive snore and Luca and I will kill ourselves laughing and my dad will wake up and bark, "Get to bed!" and not even a second later he'll be snoring and we'll kill ourselves laughing again and Mia will say, "What is this? Grand Central Station?”

“If she’s out here and not locked up in the barracks, I’ll know,” he said. He took a deep breath and whistled.“You share a whistle?” Trevanion said in disbelief.“Do you have a problem with that?” Finnikin asked.“I have a few whistles,” Lucian murmured. “Very confusing sometimes.”“Whistles are meant for combat,” Trevanion said. “Not wooing women. Women do not understand whistles.”

“All right, silent dark bear with angry frown, tell me more about your land.”He settled back down, picturing it. “I would tend to our land from the moment the sun rose to when it set and then you ...she would tend to me.”He laughed at her expression again. The world of exile camps and the Valley felt very far away, and he wanted to lie there forever.“Let me tell you about your bride,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows.“Both of you would cultivate the land. You would hold the plow, and she would walk alongside you with the ox, coaxing and singing it forward. A stick in her hand, of course, for she would need to keep both the ox and you in line.”“What would we...that is, my bride and I, grow?”“Wheat and barley.”“And marigolds.”Her nose crinkled questioningly.“I would pick them when they bloomed,” he said. “And when she called me home for supper, I’d place them in her hair and the contrast would take my breath away.”“How would she call you? From your cottage? Would she bellow, ‘Finnikin!’?”“I’d teach her the whistle. One for day and one for night.”“Ah, the whistle, of course. I’d forgotten the whistle.”

“He just watched the way Finnikin’s hands rested on Evanjalin’s neck and he rubbed his thumb along her jaw and the way his tongue seemed to disappear inside her mouth as if he needed a part of her to breathe himself.”

“I walk down the steps of the verandah towards her and with shaking hands she holds my face between them, sobbing, "Look at my beautiful girl.”

“You seem to have a problem with me," he says in typical Griggs fashion.I can tell he regrets saying it when he is treated to one of Hannah's long cold gazes."I think it will be a while before I forgive the trip to Sydney," she says flatly."Fair enough. I think it will be a while before I forgive you for what you put her through over the past six weeks."I watch them both and for the first time it occurs to me that I'm no longer flying solo and that I have no intention of pretending that I am. I have an aunt and I have a Griggs and this is what it's like to have connections with people."Do you know what?" I ask both of them. "If you don't build a bridge and get over it, I'll never forgive either of you.”

“I met this boy here who I knew as a kid and his mum left him with a pedophile for two weeks when he was eight years old and I'm presuming you know everything there is to know about Jonah's father, and that my father is dead, and my mother hasn't been around for years, and God knows Jessa's real story. So what I'm saying here, Sergeant, is that we're just a tad low on the reliable adult quota so you have no right to be all self-righteous about what Chaz did and if you're going to go around not talking to him when his only crime was wanting me to have what he has, then I think you're going to turn out to be a bit of a dud and you know something? I'm just a bit over life's little disappointments right now. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“Between now and when we graduate next year there are at least ten weeks' holiday and five random public holidays. There's email and if you manage to get down to the town, there's text messaging and mobile phone calls. If not, the five minutes you get to speak to me on your communal phone is better than nothing. There are the chess nerds who want to invite you to our school for the chess comp next March and there's this town in the middle, planned by Walter Burley Griffin, where we can meet up and protest against our government's refusal to sign the Kyoto treaty.”

“It's hard to explain what happens when jazz and punk fuse with a violin twist but it works. Probably because Anson Choi takes off his shirt while he's playing the saxophone. Whoever's not chatting up a Cadet or a girl from Darling House or playing chess with the guys is watching the band. I turn into agroupie.”

“Don't you ever touch my car again," Santangelo says with the same fury he had on his face when Jonah Griggs madecomments about his mother.Raffy touches the car with her finger in a very dramatic way."You've just made our hit list," he says, getting a hanky out of his pocket and cleaning off some imaginary mark.”

“His father's made us paint half this town and if we stick around any longer he'll make us paint the rest of it." -Jonah Griggs”

“Coffee?" Santangelo calls down to us. We both look up. He,Ben, and Raffy are hanging over the side."Is it espresso?" Anson Choi asks behind us."Freshly percolated," Ben answers. "You should see the gadgets they have up here."Anson Choi aims a begging look at Griggs."You want to sell out over a coffee?" Griggs asks him with disgust."They've got muffins as well," I tell them. "Double chocolate chip. His mum made them."Griggs gets up and holds out a hand to me. "Truce.”

“We're an Ag college," I explain to them. "Not as good as the one in Yanco but we have livestock.""Cows?" Anson Choi asks, covering his nose."Pigs, too. And horses. Great for growing tomatoes.The Cadets are wanna-be soldiers. City people. They may know how to street fight but they don't know how to wade through manure."I'm going to throw up," one of the guys says."Don't feel too bad," I explain. "Some of our lot did while they were laying out this stuff. Actually, right there where you're standing.”

“So apart from writing letters home to your fantasy girlfriends,"Ben says, walking backwards, "what do you guys do out here without television and phones?""Men's business. Bit confidential," Griggs says patronisingly."Wow, wish I were you," Ben says, shaking his head with mock regret. "All I'll be doing tonight is hanging out in Taylor's bedroom, lying on her bed, sharing my earphones with her, hoping she won't hog all the room because it's such a tiny space.”

“Once, last year, I started going through my sins and Father Stephen said, "Oh, it's you, Josie." Can you believe it? He recognised me by my sins. I'm so boring that I can't even change my sins from term to term.”

“You grab at any sign of hope. You grab it with both hands and breathe life into it, day after day. You do anything to keep it alive.”

“I was wrong, I thought to myself. I honestly believed it. Not because Sister Louise told me or because she made me believe I was. I knew deep down that I was wrong and I think that my emancipation began at that moment.”

“What’s the difference between a trip and a journey?" "Narnie, my love, when we get there, you’ll understand.”

“Taylor: Do you know when the next train to Yass is coming?Jonah: Go to hell.Taylor: Been there. Trust me. It's so overrated.”

“I'd like to think I'm Elizabeth, but deep down I think I'm the one whose name no one can remember. Not Lydia the slut or Mary the nerd or Jane the beauty or Elizabeth the opinionated. I'm the second-youngest. The forgotten one. - Francesca Spinelli”

“I watch Raffy as she removes the pickles from her hamburger and hands them over to Santangelo without them exchanging a word and I realize again there is more to that relationship than spelling bees and being enemies. These people have history and I crave history. I crave someone knowing me so well that they can tell what I'm thinking.”

“Do you miss being friends with Santangelo?" I ask her after the lights are out and we're almost asleep."What makes you think were friends?""Everything."I hear her yawn."Being enemies with him is better." she tells me. There's a long pause and I think she's going to say something more but she doesn't and it's just silence for a long while.”

“I do keep him at the back of my mind for those times I get me hopes raised about something. So then I can slap myself into reality and remind myself of what happens when you let someone into your sacred space.”