Quote

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.

Rainbow Rowell

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Rainbow Rowell
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 24
Author
Journalist
Novelist
Prosaist
Writer
NE
Didn
Close
Levi
Look
Magic
Cave
Looks
Painting
Lifted
Time
Eyes
Caves
Face
Pulled
Faces
Heels
Eye
Red
Words
Forward
Ballon

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The next night, Lincoln parked his Corolla right next to The Courier's front door. I'm here, he thought. Find me. Follow me. Make this inevitable.
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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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I want everyone to meet you. You're my favorite person of all time.
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So why aren’t you living with your sister?” “She wanted to meet new people,” Cath said. “You make it sound like she broke up with you.
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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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You look like a protagonist.
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Ah...' Park said, pained. 'What?' 'Those are alphabetized.' 'It's okay. I know the alphabet.' 'Right.' He looked embarrassed. 'Sorry.
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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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Things she knew now, that she hadn't known two hours ago: Park was covered with skin. Everywhere.
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Baz. Have you ever done this before? Simon. Yes. No. Yes or no? Yes. Not like this. Baz. Not with a boy? Simon. Not when I really wanted it.
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Underneath this veneer of slightly crazy and mildly socially retarded, I'm a complete disaster.
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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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Holding Eleanor's hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive.
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I don't want to do anything. I don't even want to start this day because then I'll just be expected to finish it.
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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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When you're a woman, you have to work harder to get a laugh... I follow so many hilarious women on Twitter. It's a daily reminder that women get to be funny.
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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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You don’t have to be the kind of beautiful that everyone can agree on. If the right person finds you beautiful, you win. You win forever.
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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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She didn't want to run, period. It made her breasts feel like they were going to detach from her body.
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