Willow Julia Hoban Quotes & Sayings

I just figured out why someone would want to make the first mirror ... I think some lover wanted his beloved to see how she appeared to him. He wanted her to be able to see herself the way that he did. — Julia Hoban

It's hard to keep something a secret when it's written all over you body. — Julia Hoban

Willow sees her before any of the others. A walking skeleton, the victim of some terrible wasting disease, like something out of the history books, a death camp survivor. It takes Willow a moment to realize that the girl is none of those things. She's just a girl, a girl like Willow, who's chosen to inflict terrible pain on herself. Only this girl's weapon isn't a razor, it's starvation. — Julia Hoban

We'd already talked in the stacks, and I knew you were different from any other girl I'd met. And you told me that your parents were dead, and I thought that you were so ... lost and vulnerable. So when I saw you in the physics lab ... and I saw you try and take care of someone that you thought who had been through what you'd been through; could be that ... well, generous, and thoughtfull ... " Guy said.
"But you hardly knew me." said Willow
"I know ... I didn't know that we'd even talk again, or that if we did, if we'd get along, or maybe you were seeing someone else ... I just knew that the way you tried to protect someone's life that, especially given your situation ... I just ... I though that you had to be the most special girl I would ever meet ... — Julia Hoban

She starts to roll down her sleeve, but Guy stops her. He holds her arm, looks at her cuts, traces the pattern of her razor marks with his hand.
"Don't, it's ... "
Willow stops speaking as he bends his head and kisses her scars.
She knows she should tell him to stop, but she can't because she wants him to go on forever. She knows too that she will probably pay for this feeling with other less pleasurable ones, but still she can't bring herself to pull her arm away. — Julia Hoban

But with you, well, the things you say ... You do get it, and that does make me feel ... better." Willow can feel herself starting to blush.
"You blush a lot," Guy says after a moment.
"I can't help it."
"Well, don't help it. I mean, blushing. I think that's sweet."
"Oh."
"And I'm really happy if anything I do makes you feel any better. — Julia Hoban

Her hand closes on smooth metal. Her fingers test the sharpness of the edge. Perfect. It's a fresh blade.
The girls' voices rustle in her head. Their clamoring pushes out all rational thought. She rolls up her sleeve.
The bite of the blade kills the noise. It wipes out the memory of those staring faces. Willow looks at her arm, at the life springing from her. Tiny pinpricks of red that blossom into giant peonies. — Julia Hoban

And I was right to be ... to become a cutter, because maybe you think this doesn't look so bad, that girls cry, that people cry, but you'd be wrong, you'd be so wrong, anything ... anything at all ... would feel better than this does. I'm ... sorry." She tries to catch her breath. "I'm sorry to be putting you through this ... "
"Willow, you haven't put me through anything. — Julia Hoban

Her brother is crying, he is wretched and broken. Though his sobs are barely audible, he is weeping with absolute and total abandon. Such a naked display of emotion is both alarming and frightening. — Julia Hoban

But ... Well, have you ever done this with anyone else?"
"Never." He pulls her down so that she is lying on the window seat.
"Good." Willow is surprised that shy as she indeed is, she isn't embarrassed to be naked in front of him. Maybe this is because in every other important way she had already been.
"Have you?" Guy lies down on his side next to her.
"No!"
"Good." He kisses her hair, her face, her neck. — Julia Hoban

Every lineament of the girl's wasted body is a testament to her inner turmoil. Willow can only imagine what kind of pain she must be in to destroy herself that way. She knows there's something ironic in her compassion for the other girl, but she can't help feeling that this utter mortification of the flesh is far worse than anything that she herself has done. — Julia Hoban

I need a Kleenex." She sniffs.
Guy disengages his hands from hers, takes the hem of his
sweatshirt, and wipes her nose with it.
"That's romantic," she says, embarrassed.
"Well, it is sort of, because I wouldn't do it for anybody else
in the world. — Julia Hoban