What’s wrong?” wasn’t such an easy question to answer.
How can you thank someone for the Cure? Or the X-Men? Sometimes it felt like she’d always be in his debt. And then she realized that Park didn’t know about the Beatles.
She was pretty sure she’d thank him for saving her life. Not just yesterday, but, like practically every day since they’d met. If you can’t save your own life, is it even worth saving?
This wasn’t good, but it was something. Cath could always change it later. That was the beauty in stacking up words – they got cheaper, the more you had of them.
Do you know what that is, Snow? A flaming pyre, set adrift in the sea. We could do yours in Blackpool, so all your chavvy Normal friends can come.
Micah plays baseball, and he has a face so symmetrical, you could summon demons on it.
You don’t know what it really means to crawl into someone else’s life and stay there. You can’t see all the ways you’re going to get tangled, how you’re going to bond skin to skin. How the idea of separating will feel in five years, in ten – in fifteen. When Georgie thought about divorce now, she imagined lying side by side with Neal on two operating tables while a team of doctors tried to unthread their vascular systems.
Sometimes, it seemed like she was trying to hide everything that was pretty about her. Like she wanted to look ugly.
She started dialing his cell, then hung up and tried the landline – maybe Margaret was a better bet to pick up; their parents’ generation still felt morally obligated to answer phones.
Clark Kent doesn’t want to be famous. He doesn’t want people to look at him. If they really look at him, they’d see that he’s just Superman with glasses.
She could have just told him about the magic phone. Full disclosure. Then they could have solved it together. They could have Sherlocked and Watsoned from both ends of the timeline.
There’s nothing sadder than buying bananas one at a time.
I’m not going anywhere, Noel.” “You are, and it’s okay. Just... I need you to take me with you.
What are those, leg sweaters?” “They’re leg warmers.” “You’re wearing at least four different kinds of sweater.” “This is a scarf.” “You look tarred and sweatered.
Are you sad?” she asked him. Sincerely. “Do you need to go home and listen to all your mixed tapes and think about this chapter of your life closing?
He took the necklace out of the box and carefully fastened it around her neck. Just like he’d imagined himself doing when he bought it. That might even be why he bought it – so he’d have this moment, under her hair. He ran his fingertips along the chain and settled the pendant on her throat.
Burgers the size of your fist.
She wouldn’t be on the bus with him. She wouldn’t roll her eyes at him in English. She wouldn’t pick a fight with him just because she was bored. She wouldn’t cry in his bedroom about the things he couldn’t fix for her.
If it tries to take you,” Wren said, “I wont’ let go.
The kind of guy you can picture negotiating for hostages and also jumping away from an explosion.