First They Killed My Father: A Daughter of Cambodia Remembers

In reference to my first post in the blog - "Thank Goodness I have a Kindle" -Now I must say, "Darn I had to turn in that Kindle. I have move from one side of the country to the other and had to turn in my school district owned Kindle. In reviewing my blog I found a draft never ppublished which follows. Now I don't have the book to see if I marked any other passages. I do know this was a book well worth reading, so maybe one day I will read it again and find out.

In one of letters written to Luing Ung after the book was published, the writer of the letter states: "as forgetting the past annihilates hope for the future."

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins

I am obviously taken with Suzanne Collins prose. I felt she really drew me into how the characters felt and there insight into the world they live in.

    In that one slight motion, I see the end of hope, the beginning of the destruction of everything I hold dear in the world. I can't guess what form my punishment will take, how wide the net will be cast, but when it is finished, there will most likely be nothing left. So you would think that at this moment, I would be in utter despair. Here's what's strange. The main thing I feel is a sense of relief. that I can give up this game. that the question of whether I can succeed in this venture  has been answered, even if that answer is a resounding no. That if desperate times call for desperate measures, then I am free to act as desperately as I wish. p 75

"I don't know if it's really an uprising. There's unrest.....And it's my fault, Gale. Because of what I did in the arena. If I had just killed myself with those berries..."
"You haven't hurt people- you've given them an opportunity. They just have to be brave enough to take it...." p.99

     Life in District 12 isn't really so different from life in the arena. At some point, you have to stop running and turn around and face whoever wants you dead. The hard thing is finding the courage to do it. p.118

...and I really can't think about kissing when I've got a rebellion to incite. p.125 

     "No one really needs me," he says, and there's no self-pity in his voice....I realize only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me. p.352

     This time, there is nothing but us to interrupt us. And after a few attempts, Peeta gives up on talking. The sensation inside me grows warmer and spreads out from my chest, down through my body, out along my arms and legs, to the tips of my being. Instead of satisfying me the kisses have the opposite effect, of making my need greater. I thought I was something of an expert on hunger, but this is a entirely new kind. p. 352

Sylvie and Bruno byLewis Carroll

I am trying hard to stop reading bad books. I've gone through life feeling compelled to finsih what I start, which includes BAD BOOKS. It runs in the family too. My brother is just like me. Having said that, I'm going to include some passages from Sylvie and Bruno by Lewis Carroll. I have not finished the book and may not. You will have to check back and see. All I can say is if you were in doubt about Lewis Carroll being an opium addict, read this book.

"Oftens and oftens," said Bruno, "haven't oo told me 'There mustn't be so much noise, Bruno!' when I've told oo 'There must!' Why, there isn't no rules at all about 'there mustn't! But oo never believes me!" "As if any one could believe you, you wicked wicked boy!" said Sylvie. The words were severe enough, but I am of opinion that, when you are really anxious to impress a criminal with a sense of his guilt, you ought not to pronounce the sentence with your lips quite close to his cheek-since a kiss at the end of it, however accidental, weakens the effect terribly. p. 125

Yet is it wise to leave it unasked? You must not waste your life upon an 'if''! p.166

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

My fingers stroke the silky braids my mother so carefully arranged. My mother. I left her blue dress and shoes on the floor of my train car, never thinking about retrieving them, of trying to hold on to a piece of her, of home. Now I wish I had.  p. 63

The Good German by Joseph Kanon

His eyes moved over the map - the Alex and its impossible trial, Prenzlauer where she'd hidden the child, Anhalter Station, cadging a cigarette on the platform. You could trace a life on a map, like streets. p. 420

"Maybe things will be different for you now, in America."
     "Different?" Emil said, flushing, aware that the others were looking.
     But their eyes were on Professor Brandt, whose shoulders had started to shake, a raw, uncontrolled blubbering, catching everyone off-guard, an emotion no one expected. Before Emil could react, the old man reached out and clutched him, wrapping his arms around him, holding on, a death grip.  Jake wanted to look away but instead kept staring at them, dismayed. Maybe the only story that really mattered, the endless ties of life's cat's cradle, tangled like yarn.
     "Well, Papa," Emil said, leaning back.
     " You made me so happy." Professor Brandt said, "When you were a boy. So happy." p. 478

I Am Half-Sick of Shadows by Alan Bradley

     "I'm sorry, Miss Wyvern. I've been seeing to the unpacking."
     " 'I'm sorry, Miss Wyvern. I've been seeing to the unpacking.' God help us."
     She mimicked her assistant's voice in the same cruel and cutting way that Daffy had mimicked mine, but in this case, though, the imitation was brilliant. Professional.
     I realized at once that a great actress can never be greater than when she's starring in her own life. p. 51

     What appealed to me, what really warmed my heart, was the thought of suspending over our ancestral home, even if only for a few seconds, an umbrella of deadly poisonous fire that would fall - then suddenly vanish as if by magic, leaving Buckshaw safe from harm.
     I didn't care if it made sense or not. It was the idea of the thing, and I was happy that I'd thought of it. p.151

     I thought with a delicious shiver - half pleasure and half fear - that before the night was out I would be scaling those ragged pinnacles for a rendezvous with Saint Nicholas - an experiment whose outcome might well determine the future course of my life.
     Would chemistry put paid to Christmas? Or would I, tomorrow morning, find a fat, infuriated elf caught fast and cursing among the chimey pots?
     I must admit that part of me was hoping for the legend.
     There were times when I felt as if I were standing astride a cold ocean - one foot in the New World and on foot in the Old. As they drifted relentlessly apart, I was in danger of being torn up the middle. p.163

The Hummingbird War by Joan Shott

"...If you love someone you never leave them, and they never leave you. The empty space just fills in a little with other things in your life and you learn to live again." p. 16

"...when you love someone you do what's best for them." p. 75