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Quote by Becca Fitzpatrick

“You're staying here, Angel." "You're taking this one alone?" "First, Hank can't see us together. Second, I don't like the idea of dragging you into something that could get messy fast. If you need one more reason, I love you.”

Quote by Becca Fitzpatrick

Book:Silence
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Work

Silence

This novel delves into the struggles of a young Portuguese Jesuit priest who faces the challenges of his faith and the harsh realities of missionary work in Japan. Set against the backdrop of religious conflict and cultural clash, the story examines the complexities of belief and the human capacity for resilience. more

Author

Becca Fitzpatrick
Becca Fitzpatrick

Becca Fitzpatrick is an American author known for her young adult literature. Born on February 3, 1979, she graduated from the University of California, Los Angeles. Her works are celebrated for their rich imagination and emotional depth, appealing to a wide audience of young readers. more

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“Seven little crazy kids chopping up sticks; One burnt her daddy up and then there were six. Six little crazy kids playing with a hive; One tattooed himself to death and then there were five. Five little crazy kids on a cellar door; One went all schizo and then there were four. Four little crazy kids going out to sea; One wouldn't say a word and then there were three. Three little crazy kids walking to the zoo; One jerked himself too much and then there were two. Two little crazy kids sitting in the sun; One a took a bunch of pills and then there was one. One little crazy kid left all alone; He went and slit his wrists, and then there were none.”

KidsSilenceCrazySuicideNotesTattooPillsBurnDrownSuicide NotesSchizoJerkingSlitting
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“In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. Secrecy and silence are the perpetrator’s first line of defense. If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence her absolutely, he tries to make sure that no one listens. To this end, he marshals an impressive array of arguments, from the most blatant denial to the most sophisticated and elegant rationalization. After every atrocity one can expect to hear the same predictable apologies: it never happened; the victim lies; the victim exaggerates; the victim brought it upon herself; and in any case it is time to forget the past and move on. The more powerful the perpetrator, the greater is his prerogative to name and define reality, and the more completely his arguments prevail.”

SilencePowerAbuseCriminalsChild AbuseSexual AbuseRapeSecrecyAttackingCredibilityAbuse SurvivorsSurvivorsAbuse Of PowerAbusersPerpetratorsSociety DenialBacklashAllegationsSurvivors Of AbuseRepressed MemoriesRecovered MemoriesRapistsTrauma MemoriesSilencing DissentSurvivor Of AbuseAttacking PeopleFalse Memory Syndrome MythLack Of AccountabilitySilencing Children
Book:Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence - From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror
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“Then we had the irises, rising beautiful and cool on their tall stalks, like blown glass, like pastel water momentarily frozen in a splash, light blue, light mauve, and the darker ones, velvet and purple, black cat's ears in the sun, indigo shadow, and the bleeding hearts, so female in shape it was a surprise they'd not long since been rooted out. There is something subversive about this garden of Serena's, a sense of buried things bursting upwards, wordlessly, into the light, as if to point, to say: Whatever is silenced will clamor to be heard, though silently.”

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Book:The Handmaid’s Tale
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“Hey Meg! Communication implies sound. Communion doesn't.' He sent her a brief image of walking silently through the woods, the two of them alone together., their feet almost noiseless on the rusty carpet of pine needles. They walked without speaking, without touching, and yet they were as close as it is possible for two human beings to be. They climbed up through the woods, coming out into the brilliant sunlight at the top of the hill. A few sumac trees showed their rusty candles. Mountain laurel, shiny, so dark a green the leaves seemed black in the fierceness of sunlight, pressed toward the woods. Meg and Calvin had stretched out in the thick, late-summer grass, lying on their backs, gazing up into the shimmering blue of sky, a vault interrupted only by a few small clouds. And she had been as happy, she remembered, as it is possible to be, and as close to Calvin as she had ever been to anybody in her life, even Charles Wallace, so close that their separate bodies, daisies and buttercups joining rather than dividing them, seemed a single enjoyment of summer and sun and each other. That was surely the purest kind of thing. Mr. Jenkins had never had that kind of communion with another human being, a communion so rich and full that silence speaks more powerfully than words.”

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“….Nothing was inevitable. She had not chosen this way. It was her fate. It had been decided since before time began. It had been decided before she began. Nothing could be done. There was no point in trying. It was way too late. The inevitability of nothing was totally supreme, overriding everything. No way out. No way through. She could only accept the unacceptable. She could only endure the unendurable. Nothing was wrong! Nothing was wrong and the wrongness of this awesome nothing seeped from her. Some people, only a few, saw it. Some people, only a few felt it. Some people, only a few, recognised it and in recognising it for what it was, raged against it. Through the nothingness, these few reached out for her. She could not reach back. Through the nothingness, these few fought for her. She could not fight back for herself. Through the nothingness, these few cared for her. She could not care back for herself. Through the nothingness, these few spoke out for her, shattering the frozen silence over and over again. She could not speak out for herself…. “ *I hope this may give some comfort to people who need it. There are good, caring people (whether outside or within yourself, if need be) and you do deserve to be cared for and supported as much as anyone else does." From “Nothing”, one of the short stories in “Fight! Rabbit! Fight!”

CareSilenceComfortAbuseNeglectHopelessnessEmotional AbuseRitual AbuseUnendurableEmotional Neglect
Book:Fight! Rabbit! Fight!
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