What follows are a few of my favourite quotes from Carol Rifka Brunt's Tell the Wolves I'm Home, a story narrated by fourteen-year-old June.
Probably the longest day of my life. I felt like I had proof that not all days are the same length, not all time has the same weight. Proof that there are worlds and worlds and worlds on top of worlds, if you want them to be there.
I mean, why did sex have to be so important? Why couldn't people live together, spend their whole lives together, just because they liked each other's company? Just because they liked each other more than anyone else in the whole world?
If you found a person like that you wouldn't have to have sex. You could just hold them, couldn't you? You could sit close to them, nestle in to them so you could hear the machine of them churning away. You could press your ear against that person's back, listening to the rythm of them, knowing that you were both made of the exact same stuff. You could do things like that.
I knew the way lost hopes could be dangerous, how they could turn a person into someone they thought they'd never be.