Best 560 quotes of Rainbow Rowell on MyQuotes

Ah." He set down his backpack and pulled out their notebook. "You're working on your final project?" "Indirectly," Cath said. "What does that mean?" "Have you ever heard sculptors say that they don't actually sculpt an object; they sculpt away everything that isn't the object?" "No." He sat down. "Well, I'm writing everything that isn't my final project, so that when I actually sit down to write it, that's all that will be left in my mind.

Ah...' Park said, pained. 'What?' 'Those are alphabetized.' 'It's okay. I know the alphabet.' 'Right.' He looked embarrassed. 'Sorry.

A landline is an anchor - busy signals, long distance bills, missed connections and all.

A little manic was what their house ran on.

All through first and second and third hour, Eleanor rubbed her palm. Nothing happened. How could it be possible that there were that many never ending all in one place? And were they always there, or did they just flip on wherever they felt like it? Because, if they were always there, how did she manage to turn doorknobs without fainting? Maybe this was why so many people said it felt better to drive a stick shift.

And because I’m so out of control, I can’t help myself. I’m not even mine anymore, I’m yours, and what if you decide that you don’t want me? How could you want me like I want you?

...and his eyes were so green they could turn carbon dioxide into oxygen.

And when Eleanor smiled, something broke inside of him. Something always did.

As I moved to less and less diverse places in my life, I realized that white people dont talk about race amongst themselves!

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.

(Because being assaulted with maxi pads is a great way to win friends and influence people.)

Bono met his wife in high school," Park says. "So did Jerry Lee Lewis," Eleanor answers. "I’m not kidding," he says. "You should be," she says, "we’re sixteen." "What about Romeo and Juliet?" "Shallow, confused," then dead. "I love you, Park says. "Wherefore art thou," Eleanor answers. "I’m not kidding," he says. "You should be.

But he kept finding new pockets of shallow inside himself. He kept finding new ways to betray her.

But I saw this video, not even the whole thing, and I just knew that it was going to be my favorite song for...for the rest of my life. And it still is. It's still my favorite song... Lincoln, I said you were cute because I didn't know how to say--because I didn't think I was allowed to say--anything else. But every time I saw you, I felt like I did the first time I heard that song.

But the explanations fell apart in her hands. Everything true was too hard to write--he was too much to lose. Everything she felt for him was too hot to touch.

But there's nothing more profound than creating something out of nothing.

But you're so helpless sometimes. It's like watching a kitten with its head trapped in a Kleenex box.

Can't you just like a girl who likes you back?' 'None of them likes me back. I may as well like the one I really want.

Cath couldn't stop thinking about Levi and his ten thousand smiles.

Cath ate the banana and held on to his gaze. “I’d give you the moon right now,” she said. Levi’s eyes flashed happily, and he hitched up an eyebrow. “Yeah, but would you slay it for me?

Cath felt like she was swimming in words. Drowning in them, sometimes.

Cath ran her fingers along the cover, over the raised gold type. Then someone else ran right into her, pushing the book into Cath's chest. Pushing two books into her chest. Cath looked up just as Wren threw an arm around her. "They're both crying," Cath heard Reagan say. "I can't even watch." Cath freed an arm to wrap around her sister. "I can't believe it's really over," she whispered. Wren held her tight and shook her head. She really was crying, too. "Don't be so melodramatic, Cath," Wren laughed hoarsely. "It's never over... It's Simon.

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.

Cath wished she didn't use the word "just" so much. It was her passive-aggressive tell, like someone who twitched when they were lying.

Don't bite his face, Eleanor told herself. It's disturbing and needy and never happens in situation comedies or movies that end with big kisses.

Drunk nerds. Not my thing.” “You like nerds.” “Not nerds who join fraternities,” Cath said. “That’s a whole subclass of nerds that I’m not interested in.

Dumb. He should have gotten the pen. Jewelry was so public... and personal, which was why he'd bought it. He couldn't buy Eleanor a pen. Or a bookmark. He didn't have bookmarklike feelings for her.

Eggnog reminds me of mucus." "Me, too. But in a good way.

Eleanor had never thought about killing herself – ever – but she thought a lot about stopping. Just running until she couldn’t run anymore. Jumping from something so high that she’d never hit the bottom.

Eleanor hadn't written him a letter. It was a postcard. GREETINGS FROM THE LAND OF 10,000 LAKES it said on the front. Park turned it over and recognized her scratchy handwriting. It filled his head with song lyrics. He sat up. He smiled. Something heavy and winged took off from his chest. Eleanor hadn't written him a letter, it was a postcard. Just three words long.

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.

Emergency dance party--go away.

Even if your heart is broken and attacking you, you're still not better off without it.

Everybody drinks," she said calmly. The Only Rational One. "Your sister doesn't." When rolled her eyes. "Forgive me, but I'm not going to spend my college years sitting soberly in my dorm room, writing about gay magicians." "Objection," Cath said, reaching for a burrito.

Every woman wants a man who'll fall in love with her soul as well as her body.

Fitting together is something you work at. It’s something you make happen—because you love each other.

For the first time in weeks, Park didn't have that anxious feeling in his stomach on the way home from school, like he had to soak up enough Eleanor to keep him until the next day.

God, his chin. She wanted to make an honest woman of his chin. She wanted to lock it down.

Happily ever after, or even just together ever after, is not cheesy.

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.

He already knows what I look like," Cath said. "There's no point in being tricky about it now." "How is doing your hair--and maybe putting on some lip gloss--being tricky?" "It's like I'm trying to distract him with something shiny.

He always kept me just on the edge of crazy. Feeling like I wanted him too much, which just made me want him more." "That sounds excruciating.

He didn't take her breath away. Maybe the opposite. But that was okay-that was really good, actually, to be near someone who filled your lungs with air.

He'd stopped trying to bring her back. She only came back when she felt like it anyway, in dreams and lies and broken-down deja-vu.

He knew why he wanted to kiss her. Because she was beautiful. And before that, because she was kind. And before that, because she was smart and funny. Because she was exactly the right kind of smart and funny. Because he could imagine taking a long trip with her without ever getting bored. Because whenever he saw something new and interesting, or new and ridiculous, he always wondered what she'd have to say about it--how many stars she'd give it and why.

He made her feel like more than the sum of her parts.

He never hurries. He never shows his cards. He always hangs up first....Like when we first started talking on the phone, he would always be the one who got off first. When we kissed, he always pulled away first. He always kept me just on the edge of crazy. Feeling like I wanted him too much, which just made me want him more....[It was] excruciating and wonderful. It feels good to want something that bad. I thought about him the way you think about dinner when you haven't eaten for a day and a half. Like you'd sell your soul for it.

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.

He tried not to love that she could recite scenes from Ghostbusters, that she liked kung fu movies and could name all of the original X-Men— because those seemed like reasons a guy would fall for a girl in a Kevin Smith movie.

He tried to remember how this happened – how she went from someone he’d never met to the only one who mattered.