I Never Promised You a Rose Garden (Signet) by Hannah Green
By Hannah Green
I by no means Promised You a Rose backyard is the tale of a sixteen-year-old who retreats from fact into the bondage of a lushly imagined yet threatening country, and her sluggish and painful trip again to sanity.
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Extra resources for I Never Promised You a Rose Garden (Signet)
Down the line, and finally he looked again at Deborah. " As Deborah looked at the boy more closely, she saw 69 70 JOANNE GREENBERG i never p r o m i s e d you a rose g a r d e n her face so that Deborah would not see it and damn herself forever by defiantly trying to prove that this Yr of hers was a fact. " Deborah was saying caustically. "Keep the thing and you can show it to the learned doctors you lecture to. " "It does depend on the kind of perspective," the doctor said. " Deborah was sitting on the floor of the ward, idly waiting for a meeting with Anterrabae, when she saw Carla coming toward her down the hall.
Paper was allowed, but pencils and pens were considered weapons and were not allowed on the ward unless used in the presence of a watching attendant. " Carla asked vaguely. In the code, she was suggesting that they both ask to be allowed to wash their hair. Carla would ask first and get the back bathroom with the nice big sink. Since policy was that unless there were three on duty in the bathroom, no more than one patient could use the sinks at one time, Deborah would have to go to the front bathroom, where she might be able to get the attendant to unlock the tubroom door and be distracted long enough for Deborah to get to her treasure.
Deborah felt the ground beginning to go dangerous. "But you had to make the deceits yourself, did you not? " A picture came to Deborah from the years when she was only waiting for the end. She had been removed from the anti-Semitic camp, but the color of life had been set and only the despair could deepen. She was always off by herself sketching, they had said, but she never let anyone see the pictures. She had begun to carry that sketchbook around everywhere, clutching it like a kind of shield, and once, among a laughing, idle group of boys and girls, a picture had dropped out of the book without her knowing it.