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Ophelia was bonkers, right? And Juliet was what, a sixth-grader?

Rainbow Rowell

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Rainbow Rowell
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 24
Author
Journalist
Novelist
Prosaist
Writer
NE
Bonkers
Grader
Ophelia
Sixth
Juliet
Right

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So...I'm larking through the Baby Gap, looking at tiny capri pants and sweaters that cost more than ... I don't know,more than they should. And I get totally sucked in by this ridiculous, tiny fur coat. The kind of coat a baby might need to go to the ballet. In Moscow. In 1918. To match her tiny pearls.
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I like your glasses,” he said. “I like your Simon Snow T-shirts. I like that you don’t smile at everyone, because then, when you smile at me.… Cather.
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What if I promise not to touch you? Cath laughed. Now I have zero incentive to come. What if I promise to let you touch me first? Are you kidding? I'm the untrustworthy person in this relationship. I'm all hands. I've seen no evidence of that, Cath. In my head, I'm all hands. I want to live in your head.
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It felt good to be writing in her own room, in her own bed. To get lost in the World of Mages and stay lost. To not hear any voices in her head but Simon's and Baz's. Not even her own. This was why Cath wrote fic. For these hours when their world supplanted the real world.
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I don't want you to go, Sam said. She was upset. I don't want this to end like this. You don't get to choose, Lincoln said. It's just happening.
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You act like there are two kinds of girls,' she said. 'The smart ones and the ones that boys like.
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Don't make me angry-kiss you.
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I want someone whose heart is big enough to hold me.
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I'd rather be broken than wasted.
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Maybe Park had paralyzed her with his ninja magic, his Vulcan handhold, and now he was going to eat her. That would be awesome.
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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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She knew she was lovely, and she shared it like a gift. Every smile from Agatha was like waking up to a perfect sunny day. Agatha knew it. And she smiled at everyone who crossed her path, as if it were the most generous thing she could offer.
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She didn't know there were things worse than selfish.
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Cath wanted to go back and rewrite every scene she'd ever written about Baz or Simon's chests. She'd written them flat and sharp and hard. Levi was all soft motion and breath, curves and warm hollows. Levi's chest was a living thing.
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But he kept finding new pockets of shallow inside himself. He kept finding new ways to betray her.
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