Elizabeth Chandler · 431 pages
Rating: (11.4K votes)
“I had discovered that there was something more painful than falling in love with someone who hasn't fallen for you; hurting that person-hurting him and not being able to do anything about it.”
“Are you lost?"
I turned around. "Excuse me?"
Two guys were sprawled on a bench close to the sidewalk. The one who had spoken wore tattered shorts and a colonial three-cornered hat-nothing else. He had wide shoulders and long, muscular legs. He stretched dramatically, then lay his tanned arm along the back of the bench. "You look lost," he said. "Can I help you find something?"
"Uh, no, thanks. I was just looking."
He grinned. "Me too."
"Oh?" I glanced around, thinking I'd missed something. "At what?"
He and his friend burst out laughing.
Way to go, Lauren, I thought. He had been looking at me!”
“Do you know what it was like kissing Holly and looking up to see you?"
"What?"
"You said to begin anywhere."
But I hadn't expected that as a beginning, middle or end. I felt my cheeks getting warm. "I guess it was pretty embarrassing for both of us," I said, and walked ahead of him so he wouldn't see my face. "I know, I just kept staring at you."
"What were you thinking?"
"I don't remember."
"Don't you start using that line," he chided.
"Then don't ask me, Nick." Did he suspect how I felt.
He caught me and turned me around to face him. I focused on his shirt.
"Okay," he said quietly, "I'll tell you what I was thinking. I couldn't believe that I, who was never going to get hooked, had fallen in love with a girl who didn't want to date, and she was watching me kiss somebody else."
I glanced up.
"Your turn, brave girl. What were you thinking?"
"That Holly looked beautiful in your arms and that you didn't pull away from her the way you had pulled away from me when I kissed you."
He drew me to him. "I'm not pulling away again," he said holding me close.”
“Good dog," Nick said. "That's one of the tricks I've taught him, shaking water on girls so they back into my arms."
"Really! How smart of Rocky - and you, of course."
"That's another thing I've been wanting to tell you," he said, turning me to face him. "I'm tired of getting jealous of my dog. I mean, he has nice eyes, but so do I."
I looked from Rocky's golden eyes to Nick's laughing green ones.
"I didn't enjoy the way Rocky got to stick close to you while I played Holly's boyfriend. He's going to have some competition from now on."
"Oh, yeah? Are you good at retrieving sticks?"
"I'm good at stealing kisses," Nick said, then proved it.”
“Hey, does my stupidity give you the right to bruise a tender heart?"
"Yeah, yeah. I'm bruising a heart made of Play-Doh.”
“I stopped walking and wrapped my arms tightly around him. "You know I can hear your heart."
"Could you hear it breaking when I accused you of getting my cartoon pulled?" he asked.
I held my head back so I could look him directly in the eye. "I didn't pull it."
"You couldn't have," he replied, "because I did.”
“dreams are shadows cast by truth shining on our darkest secrets”
“when attacked, centralized organizations tend to become even more centralized.”
“Mas o amor, dizia ele, era tudo menos credível, a vida real era ridícula, os labregos riam-se do amor.”
“Action comes from keeping the heat on. No politician can sit on a hot issue if you make it hot enough.”
“When we mourn those who die young – those who have been robbed of time – we weep for lost joys. We weep for opportunities and pleasure we ourselves have never known. We feel sure that somehow that young body would have known the yearning delight for which we searched in vain all our lives. We believe that the untried soul, trapped in its young prison, might have flown free and known the joy that we still seek. We say that life is sweet, its satisfactions deep. All this we say, as we sleepwalk our time through years of days and nights. We let time cascade over us like a waterfall, believing it to be never-ending. Yet each day that touches us, and every man in the world, is unique; irredeemable; over. And just another Monday.”
“on ne ferait pas une divinité de l'amour, s'il n'opérait souvent des prodiges.”
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