The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon

It was like drowning, only from the inside out.

The world had teeth and it could bite you with them anytime it wanted.

The world is a worst case scenario and I'm afraid that all you sense is true

The world has teeth and it can bite you with them any time it wants.

Shadows were too black, and when a breeze stirred the trees, the shadows changed in a disquieting way.

I've got icewater in my veins and I hope you freeze on the first bite. Come on, you busher! Batter-fucking-up!

Let it eat her; let it beat her. It could do both. But she would not beat herself.

It's God's nature to come on in the bottom of the ninth, Tom had told her.

Part of her wanted to run. Never mind how flowing water was bound to take her to people eventually, all that was likely just a crock of Little House of the Prairie shit.

She pushed the button and like a miracle her head filled with the sound of Jerry Trupiano’s voice… and more importantly, with the sounds of Fenway Park. She was sitting out here in the darkening, drippy woods, lost and alone, but she could hear thirty thousand people. It was a miracle.

You could get used to anything if you had to.

She had a bottle of water in her pack—a big one with a squeeze-top—but suddenly all Trisha wanted in the world was to prime the pump in the little hut and get a drink, cold and fresh, from its rusty lip. She would drink and pretend she was Bilbo Baggins, on his way to the Misty Mountains.

You could get used to anything if you had to. She knew that now.

I don’t believe in any actual thinking God that marks the fall of every bird in Australia or every bug in India, a God that records all of our sins in a big golden book and judges us when we die—I don’t want to believe in a God who would deliberately create bad people and then deliberately send them to roast in a hell He created—but I believe there has to be something.

Il mondo aveva i denti e in qualsiasi momento ti poteva morsicare. Questo Trisha McFarland scoprì a nove anni.

Außerdem kommst du vielleicht nie in Petes Alter, sagte die beunruhigende innere Stimme. Wie konnte man bloß eine so kalte und beängstigende Stimme in sich haben? Eine solche Verräterin an der eigenen Sache? Vielleicht kommst du nie aus diesem Wald heraus.

Als sie die linke Tür des Fahrerhauses erreichte, die halb offen in festgerosteten Scharnieren hing und durch deren Fensterrahmen, der einer leeren Augenhöhle glich, sich Ranken schlängelten, zuckte wieder ein Blitz herab und färbte die ganze Welt purpurrot. In seinem grellen Licht sah Trisha jenseits der Straße etwas stehen, etwas mit hängenden Schultern, mit schwarzen Augen und großen aufgestellten Ohren, die wie Hörner aussahen.