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Juliette hasn't touched anyone in exactly 264 days.
|Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi|
My rating: 3.75 of 5 stars
Shatter Me is a beautiful, heart-breaking story about a supposedly insane girl locked up in an asylum for a crime she never meant to commit.
There are many, many aspects of this book that make hating it practically effortless. And despite being an easily irritated person, I still thoroughly loved reading Shatter Me. I had to ignore and overlook a lot of things, but it paid off because the book is extremely enjoyable underneath all the faults.
More than half the reason I went so easy on the book is because of the beautiful, amazing, heart-wrenching, powerful writing style. It took a little getting used to in the beginning, because of how different it is, but once I got a grip on the narration, I couldn't stop feeling wowed by every single sentence. There's something really, really wonderful about Mafi's writing that simply speaks to the heart. It's almost poetic.
Again, it is very, very easy to hate Juliette. She's insecure, timid, and shy. But she's also gentle, strong, and like Adam said, good. Hating her is like kicking a dying puppy. They're both too sweet and sad.
"God, Juliette, I’d follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this world."
After the writing, Adam is the best thing about this book. His character is perfect for keeping this book from becoming too hopeless and dark. I love him.
Raindrops are my only reminder that clouds have a heartbeat. That I have one, too.
The world is flat.
I know because I was tossed right off the edge and I’ve been trying to hold on for 17 years. I’ve been trying to climb back up for 17 years but it’s nearly impossible to beat gravity when no one is willing to give you a hand.
When no one wants to risk touching you.
I grew up with nothing and I didn’t hate it. I didn’t want the clothes or the perfect shoes or the expensive anything. I didn’t want to be draped in silk. All I ever wanted was to reach out and touch another human being, not just with my hands but with my heart.
I don’t remember what it means to breathe.
what it meant to feel.
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