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Here's something else, something important: Love is not transactional. It is not a bank account, you don't always get what you put in. Sometimes you put in so much and get very little return on your investment, at least that you can see right away.

Jenny Han

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Jenny Han
Age: 44
Born: 1980
Born: September 3
Novelist
Writer
Richmond
Virginia
Right
Investment
Sometimes
Accounts
Important
Return
Much
Least
Something
Away
Always
Else
Transactional
Love
Littles
Bank
Little
Account

More quotes by Jenny Han

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For me there was-is-nothing better than walking on the beach late at night. It feels like you could walk forever, like the whole night is yours and so is the ocean. When you walk on the beach at night, you can say things you can't say in real life. In the dark you can feel really close to a person. You can say whatever you want.
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When it's finals week and you've been studying for five hours straight, you need three things to get you through the nigh.The biggest Slurpee you can find,half cherry half Coke.Pajama pants, the kind that have been washed so many times they are tissue-paper thin. And finally,dace breaks.Lots of dance breaks.
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He didn't give me flowers or candy. He gave me the moon and the stars. Infinity.
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When you walk on the beach at night, you can say things you can't say in real life.
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I think I see the difference now, between loving someone from afar and loving someone up close. When you see them up close, you see the real them, but they also get to see the real you.
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You can't put being in love on a scale. Either you are or you aren't.
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When boy likes you, you say no thank you. You don't kick him on the ground.
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An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. a burn for a burn. a life for a life. that's how all this got started. and that's how it's going to end.
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Everything good, everything magical happens between the months of June and August. Winters are simply a time to count the weeks until the next summer
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You never know the last time you’ll see a place. A person.
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Aching familiar in a way that made me wish I was still eight. Eight was before death or divorce or heartbreak. Eight was just eight. Hot dogs and peanut butter, mosquito bites and splinters, bikes and boogie boards. Tangled hair, sunburned shoulders, Judy Blume, in bed by nine thirty.
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There hadn’t been one specific moment. It was like gradualy waking up. You go from being asleep to the space between dreaming and awake and then into consciousness. It’s a slow process, but when you’re awake, there’s no mistaking it. There was no mistaking that it had been love.
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There's no use in asking what if. No one could ever give you the answers.
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But just because you bury something, that doesn't mean it stops existing. Those feelings, they'd been there all along. All that time. I had to face it.
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I loved him in a way that you can really only do the first time around. It's the kind of love that doesn't know better and doesn't want to-it's dizzy and foolish and fierce. That kind of love is really a one-time-only thing.
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Do you think there's a difference? Between belonging with and belonging to?
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And no matter what you do or how hard you try, you can’t stop yourself from dreaming.
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Sometimes questions can be more cruel than insults.
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Love is scary: it changes it can go away. That's the part of the risk. I don't want to be scared anymore.
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I knew it in my bones. That this time was it. I had finally made my choice, and so had he. He let me go. I was relieved, which I expected. What I didn't expect was to feel so much grief.
Jenny Han