Roza Melkumyan

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Born a Crime: Sto...
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Apr 20, 2026 01:38PM

 
Midnight Sun
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May 26, 2025 07:18AM

 
In Everything I S...
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See all 9 books that Roza is reading…
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Robert Frost
“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.”
Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Emily Brontë
“Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living. You said I killed you--haunt me then. The murdered do haunt their murderers. I believe--I know that ghosts have wandered the earth. Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!”
Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

John  Green
“What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.”
John Green, Paper Towns

Kate Chopin
“but whatever came, she had resolved never again to belong to another than herself.”
Kate Chopin, The Awakening

Kazuo Ishiguro
“That was the only time, as I stood there, looking at that strange rubbish, feeling the wind coming across those empty fields, that I started to imagine just a little fantasy thing, because this was Norfolk after all, and it was only a couple of weeks since I’d lost him. I was thinking about the rubbish, the flapping plastic in the branches, the shore-line of odd stuff caught along the fencing, and I half-closed my eyes and imagined this was the spot where everything I'd ever lost since my childhood had washed up, and I was now standing here in front of it, and if I waited long enough, a tiny figure would appear on the horizon across the field, and gradually get larger until I'd see it was Tommy, and he'd wave, maybe even call. The fantasy never got beyond that --I didn't let it-- and though the tears rolled down my face, I wasn't sobbing or out of control. I just waited a bit, then turned back to the car, to drive off to wherever it was I was supposed to be.”
Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go

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223 books | 165 friends

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Leah Block
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Graeme ...
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Alicia ...
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