“You are my whole heart, Scarlet. And this is breaking it.'
My heart cracked open and clear dropped out of me. My mouth opened, and I looked round me and stamped my foot. 'Does this look like a good time to tell me that, you damn stupid boy?' I meant to sound mean but my voice wobbled. 'Now?'
He gave a little smile. 'My foul-mouthed warrior.”
“I know what it's like when you can't get no one to listen to you. When what you say don't matter. I half think every girl knows what it's like to be silenced.”
“His arms went round my waist. He had a big grin, full of teeth like stars. "You saying you're the jealous sort,Scar?"
"I'm saying that some girls slap, but I have knives.”
“Of a band with three actual boys, why is it that all the maids lust after the fake one?”
“I’ll keep your heart, Scar,” he whispered. “If you keep mine.”
“Because we always have a choice, even when it feels like we don't.”
“We do what we do because there's something we can do about it. Things like 'how long' and 'what if' aren't part of that. It's about the hope, not the horror.”
“I do what I do because I will always believe that no matter how awful life gets for however many of these people, there is something I can do about it. There is something I will do about it.”
“Much were bent over in laughter. I pushed him, and he rolled to the floor without my intended insult. “Come off it!” I stamped my foot.
“What’s so funny?” John asked, coming over in the middle of eating an apple. He tossed me an apple and I threw it at Much. He only laughed harder. “K-k-kissed Scar!” he hooted.
“Someone kissed you?” John asked, turning to me. He didn’t look like it were too funny. “Who is he?”
This made Much laugh more.
“None of your business, John Little,” I told him.
He stepped closer to me with a flat face that, if I could ape it, I’d never be kissed by a stupid girl when I didn’t want to be. “Who, Scar?”
“Jenny Percy!” Much roared.
John’s face broke open, like a smile could split a black
mood. “Wait till Rob hears this.”
“He takes the guilt and responsibility that others can't. John takes the punches. I just take the hunger, and most times it feels like awful little.”
“I picked up the mop and started washing again as Rob struggled to his feet, red faced. John laughed, and Much covered a smile.
"You lot think this is funny?" I asked. "I'll unman you too if you wish it."
They jumped back, and Rob grunted. "You haven't unmanned me, and I resent the implication of it."
"It were a warning blow," I told him, shoving the mop 'cross the floor. "Next time I'll try harder.”
“Rob looked a little shocked. "Don't you look at me like that," I snapped at him. "Just because I can't trim a beard don't mean I can't swear."
"Like a sailor," he added. "I've never heard so many curses in my whole life. All combined.”
“Never would I have a man saying what or who were best for me, and that were all there were to it.”
“When shall we break into the jail, then?" John asked.
"Midnight. The guard changes then, and you'll fair certain look less conspicuous in that crowd."
"So you think I look like a guard? I'll take that nicely." He took a drink of his beer, his eyes shining at me over the brim.
I flicked my eyes over him. "Brutish and stupid? Yes, you look quite like a guard.”
“I wouldn't never bathe with him or pass water when he were near. He got suspicious quick. Seems real boys are awfully eager to parade their bits around.”
“You are my whole heart, Scarlet. And this is breaking it.”
“We shoulder it so these people don't have to know it too. And I know this because that's what you say. And when you say it, I believe you. And when I believe you, I'll follow you anywhere.”
“You have to stay safe, Scar. Maybe it's your bits in a dress and maybe it's just you, but I'm awful fond of something in there. So don't get killed.”
“I left little packages in front of the doors; the people looked for them in the morning, and I knew, in some bit of a way, it bucked them up.
I did as much as I could, but it weren't like I could get everyone something every night. That seemed like the cruelest part. I tried not to think 'bout the people that woke up and rushed to the door and didn't find nothing; it made my chest hurt.”
“I know what it is to look at your past, and see nothing more than your mistakes”
“You traitorous bitch!" he yelled. "You goddamn liar!"
I laughed. "You knew I were a bitch and a liar when you married me, Guy. It's your own damn fault for agreeing to it.”
“Honor, obey?" Gisbourne shouted, grappling with John. "This is what you call being a good wife?"
I stopped. "I never said I'd be a good wife, Guy. Just that I'd marry you.”
“He put his hand to my cheek, just touching the fingertips to my skin before pulling away. "You are.”
“Rob's breath were pushing over my ear, his chest puffing up underneath me. His heart were beating so close to my own that it calmed me for sheer distraction.”
“We do what we do because there's something we can do about it. Things like 'how long' and 'what if' aren't part of that. It's about the hope, not the horror." Thoughts of London welled up in my pipes but I kept going. "And for that matter, you know all about the horrors, just like I do, just like John does, just like Much. We shoulder it so these people don't have to know it too. And I know this because that's what you say. And when you say it, I believe you. and when I believe you, I'll follow you anywhere.”
“Talking one way or another doesn't make you better”
“This is the hope, not horror”
“Ain't got so much moral ground to stand on.”
“More people care about you than you know, Scarlet. No matter how you got your scars.” I covered my cheek, looking at her. “Not just those scars. The ones that make you think you’re unlovable.”
“There are poor men out there. And rich ones. Rich men never wait for nothing, so why would they be good? Good men are poor, because they have to count on others' kindnesses.”
“As a fan I also left a lot to be desired. Juan Alberto Schiaffino and Julio César Abbadie played for Peñarol, the enemy team. I was a loyal Nacional fan and I did everything I could to hate them. But with his masterful passes “El Pepe” Schiaffino orchestrated the team’s plays as if he were watching from the highest tower of the stadium, and “El Pardo” Abbadie, running in his seven-league boots, would slide the ball all the way down the white touchline, swaying back and forth without ever grazing the ball or his opponents. I couldn’t help admiring them, and I even felt like cheering. Years have gone by and I’ve finally learned to accept myself for who I am: a beggar for good soccer. I go about the world, hand outstretched, and in the stadiums I plead: “A pretty move, for the love of God.”
“Fate had already done everything it could to torment her.”
“I didn't know how to live my life, and suddenly I was thrust into it and had no choice but to live it.”
“The event of falling in love is of such a nature that we are right to reject as intolerable the idea that it should be transitory. In one high bound it has overleaped the massive of our selfhood; it has made appetite itself altruistic, tossed personal happiness aside as a triviality and planted the interests of another in the centre of our being. Spontaneously and without effort we have fulfilled the law (towards one person) by loving our neighbour as ourselves. It is an image, a foretaste, of what we must become to all if Love Himself rules in us without a rival. It is even (well used) a preparation for that.”
“How does one end a moment like this? It would kill her to feel him pull away. She had to be first. In a moment. One moment more. Yes. Now”
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