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He wound the scarf around his fingers until her hand was hanging in the space between them. Then he slid the silk and his fingers into her open palm. And Eleanor disintegrated.
Rainbow Rowell
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Rainbow Rowell
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 24
Author
Journalist
Novelist
Prosaist
Writer
NE
Hand
Eleanor
Open
Palm
Space
Silk
Hands
Palms
Around
Wound
Disintegrated
Hanging
Scarf
Wounds
Slid
Fingers
Scarves
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I love you more than I hate everything else.
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Eggnog reminds me of mucus. Me, too. But in a good way.
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That's the ultimate kind of broken. The kind of damage you never recover from.
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Holding Eleanor’s hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive. As soon as he touched her, he wondered how he’d gone this long without doing it. He rubbed his thumb through her palm and up her fingers, and was aware of her every breath.
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Happily ever after, or even just together ever after, is not cheesy,” Wren said. “It’s the noblest, like, the most courageous thing two people can shoot for.
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Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice it was supposed to make you feel something.
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My girlfriend is sad and quiet and keeps me up all night worrying about her.
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What are the chances you’d ever meet someone like that? he wondered. Someone you could love forever, someone who would forever love you back? And what did you do when that person was born half a world away? The math seemed impossible.
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That’s because you ooze preemptive leave-me-alone death rays.
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She didn't have words for what Levi was. He was a cave painting. He was The Red Ballon. She lifted her heels and pulled him forward until his face was so close, she could look at only one of his eyes at a time. You're magic, she said.
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Or maybe, he thought now, he just didn't recognize all those other girls. The way a computer drive will spit out a disk if it doesn't recognize the formatting. When he touched Eleanor's hand, he recognized her. He knew.
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Fitting together is something you work at. It’s something you make happen—because you love each other.
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Don't make me angry-kiss you.
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I don’t trust anybody. Not anybody. And the more that I care about someone, the more sure I am they’re going to get tired of me and take off.
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Maybe he was Filipino. Was that in Asia? Probably. Asia's out-of-control huge.
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You’re a sad little hermit, and it creeps me out.
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The snow came up to the top of Georgie's calves - she had to lift her feet high to make any progress. Her ears and eyelids were freezing ... God, she'd never even been able to imagine this much cold before. How could people live someplace that so obviously didn't want them?
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Even if your heart is broken and attacking you, you're still not better off without it.
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Things get better--hurt less--over time. If you let them.
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Take off your glasses. Why? I thought you liked my glassess. I love your glasses. I especially love the moment when you take them off.
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