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Levi was smiling. He kicked her chair again.

Rainbow Rowell

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Rainbow Rowell
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: February 24
Author
Journalist
Novelist
Prosaist
Writer
NE
Levi
Kicked
Smiling
Chair
Chairs

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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.
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You can’t take back texts. If you come off all moody and melancholy in a text, it just sits there in your phone, reminding you of what a drag you are.
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I just want to break that song into pieces and love them all to death.
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He pulled away to say he's sorry, and she shook her head no, because even though she really want him to be sorry, she wanted to kiss him more.
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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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If I had an author superpower, I would like to have the ability to stop time for everyone else. I feel like I have to disappear into myself to write books. I go away, into my head, for hours and weeks at a time, and I hate that I miss everything. It's pretty selfish to want to pause other people, isn't it?
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I want someone whose heart is big enough to hold me.
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What did he have to mope about, really? What more did he want?...Love. Purpose. Those are the things that you can't plan for. Those are the things that just happen. And what if they don't happen? Do you spend your whole life pining for them? Waiting to be happy?
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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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...and his eyes were so green they could turn carbon dioxide into oxygen.
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I couldn't love anyone more than I do you, it would kill me. And I couldn't love anyone less because it would always feel like less. Even if I loved some other girl, that's all I would ever think about, the difference between loving her and loving you.
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You're never going to find a guy who's exactly like you - first of all, because that guy never leaves his dorm room.
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What about him? she’d say, finding an attractive guy to point out while they were standing in the lunch line. Do you want to kiss him? I don’t want to kiss a stranger, Cath would answer. I’m not interested in lips out of context.
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You flirt with everything. She could tell that her eyes were popping-- her eyeballs actually felt cold around the edges. You flirt with old people and babies and everybody in between.
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Eleanor,” he said, just because he liked saying it, “why do you like me?” “I don’t like you.” He waited. And waited… Then he started to laugh. “You’re kind of mean,” he said. “Don’t laugh. It just encourages me.
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You're wearing at least four different kinds of sweater. This is a scarf. You look tarred and sweatered.
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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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Even if your heart is broken and attacking you, you're still not better off without it.
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I'd rather be broken than wasted.
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I miss you. That's stupid, she said. I saw you this morning. It's not the time, Levi said, and she could hear that he was smiling. It's the distance.
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