Nurul Atiqah Muhamad

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The Bluest Eye
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Jatuh Cinta Adalah Cara Terbaik untuk Bunuh Diri by Bernard Batubara
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Pulang by Tere Liye
Pulang
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Rindu by Tere Liye
Rindu
by Tere Liye (Goodreads Author)
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Alkisahnya mengenai sebuah keluarga dan penumpang-penumpang lainnya yang dalam perjalanan mengerjakan haji menaiki kapal Belanda. Kisah berlaku sekitar tahun 1938, waktu Hindia Belanda (Indonesia) masih di bawah jajahan Belanda. Bagi yang dah selalu ...more
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Ayahku (Bukan) Pembohong by Tere Liye
Ayahku (Bukan) Pembohong
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Daun Yang Jatuh Tak Pernah Membenci Angin by Tere Liye
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Ada Daun Yang Jatuh Tak Pernah Membenci Angin 2 tak?

Penamat buku ini lain daripada buku Tere Liye yang lain. Sama ada penamat gembira ataupun sedih, bergantung pada pengalaman pembaca sendiri.

Manusia tidak sakti untuk selalu menentukan perjalanan hid
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Garis Waktu by Fiersa Besari
Garis Waktu
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Pulang by Tere Liye
Pulang
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Ayahku (Bukan) Pembohong by Tere Liye
Ayahku (Bukan) Pembohong
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Daun Yang Jatuh Tak Pernah Membenci Angin by Tere Liye
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Ada Daun Yang Jatuh Tak Pernah Membenci Angin 2 tak?

Penamat buku ini lain daripada buku Tere Liye yang lain. Sama ada penamat gembira ataupun sedih, bergantung pada pengalaman pembaca sendiri.

Manusia tidak sakti untuk selalu menentukan perjalanan hid
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More of Nurul Atiqah's books…
Suzanne Collins
“Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?” I say.

“I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says.

“You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down.

“It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I'm okay once I realize you're here.”
Suzanne Collins, Catching Fire

Suzanne Collins
“Peeta,” I say lightly. “You said at the interview you’d had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?”
“Oh, let’s see. I guess the first day of school. We were five. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair... it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up,” Peeta says.
“Your father? Why?” I ask.
“He said, ‘See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,’” Peeta says.
“What? You’re making that up!” I exclaim.
“No, true story,” Peeta says. “And I said, ‘A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could’ve had you?’ And he said, ‘Because when he sings... even the birds stop to listen.’”
“That’s true. They do. I mean, they did,” I say. I’m stunned and surprisingly moved, thinking of the baker telling this to Peeta. It strikes me that my own reluctance to sing, my own dismissal of music might not really be that I think it’s a waste of time. It might be because it reminds me too much of my father.
“So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent,” Peeta says.
“Oh, please,” I say, laughing.
“No, it happened. And right when your song ended, I knew—just like your mother—I was a goner,” Peeta says. “Then for the next eleven years, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you.”
“Without success,” I add.
“Without success. So, in a way, my name being drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck,” says Peeta. For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff, playing at being in love not actually being in love. But Peeta’s story has a ring of truth to it. That part about my father and the birds. And I did sing the first day of school, although I don’t remember the song. And that red plaid dress... there was one, a hand-me-down to Prim that got washed to rags after my father’s death.
It would explain another thing, too. Why Peeta took a beating to give me the bread on that awful hollow day. So, if those details are true... could it all be true?
“You have a... remarkable memory,” I say haltingly. “I remember everything about you,” says Peeta, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re the one who wasn’t paying attention.”
“I am now,” I say.
“Well, I don’t have much competition here,” he says. I want to draw away, to close those shutters again, but I know I can’t. It’s as if I can hear Haymitch whispering in my ear, “Say it! Say it!”
I swallow hard and get the words out. “You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in.”
Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games

Suzanne Collins
“No problem," Gale replies. "I wake up ten times a night anyway."
"To make sure Katniss is still here?" asks Peeta.
"Something like that,"...
"That was funny, what Tigris said. About no one knowing what to do with her."
"Well, WE never have,"...
"She loves you, you know," says Peeta. "She as good as told me after they whipped you."
"Don't believe it,"Gale answers. "The way she kissed you in the Quarter Quell...well she never kissed me like that."
"It was just part of the show," Peeta tells him, although there's an edge of doubt in his voice.
"No, you won her over. Gave up everything for her. Maybe that's the only way to convince her you love her." There's a long pause. "I should have volunteered to take your place in the first Games. Protected her then."
"You couldn't," says Peeta. "She'd never have forgiven you. You had to take care of her family. They matter more to her than her life."
...
"I wonder how she'll make up her mind."
"Oh, that I do know." I can just catch Gale's last words through the layer of fur. "Katniss will pick whoever she thinks she can't survive without”
Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay

Suzanne Collins
“I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," says Peeta. "Even if my mother isn't a healer."
I'm jolted back in time, to another wound, another set of bandages. "You said that same thing to me in the first Hunger Games. Real or not real?"
"Real," he says. "And you risked your life getting the medicine that saved me?"
"Real." I shrug. "You were the reason I was alive to do it.”
Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay

Suzanne Collins
“Stay with me." As the tendrils of sleep syrup pull me down, I hear him whisper a word back, but I don't quite catch it.”
Suzanne Collins, Catching Fire

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