Stephanie Perkins · 384 pages
Rating: (130.3K votes)
“I know you aren't perfect. But it's a person's imperfections that make them perfect for someone else.”
“Once upon a time, there was a girl who talked to the moon. And she was mysterious and she was perfect, in that way that girls who talk to moons are. In the house next door, there lived a boy. And the boy watched the girl grow more and more perfect, more and more beautiful with each passing year. He watched her watch the moon. And he began to wonder if the moon would help him unravel the mystery of the beautiful girl. So the boy looked into the sky. But he couldn't concentrate on the moon. He was too distracted by the stars. And it didn't matter how many songs or poems had already been written about them, because whenever he thought about the girl, the stars shone brighter. As if she were the one keeping them illuminated.
One day, the boy had to move away. He couldn't bring the girl with him, so he brought the stars. When he'd look out his window at night, he would start with one. One star. And the boy would make a wish on it, and the wish would be her name.
At the sound of her name, a second star would appear. And then he'd wish her name again, and the stars would double into four. And four became eight, and eight became sixteen, and so on, in the greatest mathematical equation the universe had ever seen. And by the time an hour had passed, the sky would be filled with so many stars that it would wake the neighbors. People wondered who'd turned on the floodlights.
The boy did. By thinking about the girl.”
“Just because something isn't practical doesn't mean it's not worth creating. Sometimes beauty and real-life magic are enough.”
“So do you believe in second chances?" I bite my lip.
"Second, third, fourth. Whatever it takes. However long it takes. If the person is right," he adds.
"If the person is... Lola?"
This time, he holds my gaze. "Only if the other person is Cricket.”
“Perfect is overrated. Perfect is boring."
I smile. "You don't think I'm perfect?"
"No. You're delightfully screwy, and I wouldn't have you any other way.”
“Because that’s the thing about depression. When I feel it deeply, I don’t want to let it go. It becomes a comfort. I want to cloak myself under its heavy weight and breathe it into my lungs. I want to nurture it, grow it, cultivate it. It’s mine. I want to check out with it, drift asleep wrapped in its arms and not wake up for a long, long time.”
“And if I'm the stars, Cricket Bell is entire galaxies.”
“There are some people in life that you can't get over.”
“Sometimes a mistake isn't a what. It's a who.”
“I don't believe in fashion. I believe in costume. Life is too short to be same person every day.”
“People should say what they mean and not make other people stumble around.”
“It's easy to talk about things we hate, but sometimes it's hard to explain exactly why we like something.”
“Everyone makes mistakes. The important thing is to not make the same mistake twice.”
“Anna prods St. Clair's shoulder. "Come on. Weren't you gonna show me that thing?"
"What thing?"
She stares at him. He stares back. She cocks her head toward Cricket and me.
"Ah, yes." St. Clair stands. "That thing."
They rush out. The door shuts, and St. Clair shouts, "Lola, Cricket wants to show you his thing, too-oo!”
“Life isn’t about what you get, it’s about what you DO with what you get.”
“And I hold my head high toward my big entrance, hand in hand with the boy who gave me the moon and the stars.”
“What just happened?"
"Your father invited the former love of your life in for pie."
"Yeah, that's what I thought.”
“I draw him closer by his tie and whisper into his ear, "Cricket Bell, I have been in love with you for my entire life.”
“There's something about blue eyes.
The kind of blue that startles you every time they're lifted in your direction. The kind of blue that makes you ache for them to look at you again. Not the blue green or blue gray, the blue that's just blue.
Cricket has those eyes.”
“Remember that day I made you the elevator?” he suddenly asks.
I give him a faint smile. “How could I forget?”
“That was the day I had my first kiss.”
My smile fades.
“I’m better now,” He sets the apple beside me. “At kissing, just so you know.”
“Being with Anna is easy. She's the one."
The one. It stops my heart. I thought Max was the one, but... there's that other one.
The first one.
"Do you believe in that?" I ask quietly. "In one person for everyone?"
Something changes in St Clair's eyes. Maybe sadness. "I can't speak for anyone but myself," he says. "But, for me, yes. I have to be with Anna. But this is something you have to figure out on your own. I can't answer that for you, no one can."
"Oh."
"Lola." He rolls his chair over to my side. "I know things are shite right now. And in the name of friendship and full disclosure, I went through something similar last year. When I met Anna, I was with someone else. And it took a long time before I found the courage to do the hard thing. But you have to do the hard thing."
I swallow. "And what's the hard thing?"
"You have to be honest with yourself.”
“If I weren't standing next to your boyfriend, I'd be tempted to ask you out myself."
She blushes, and St. Clair bounds inside the box office and wrestles her into a hug. "Miiiiiiiiine!" he says.
"Cut it out." Anna pushes him off, laughing. "You'll get fired. And then I'll have to support your sorry arse for the rest of our lives.”
“Do you know my biggest regret?" She asks. "That you turned into this bright, beautiful, fascinating person... and I can't take credit for any of it.”
“Lola?" Cricket is on his knees at the side of my bed. I feel it. "I'm here," he whispers. "You can talk to me or not talk to me, but I'm here.”
“No more moving. I'm here. I'm wherever you are.”
“What...what about when I'm married?”
“We'll buy a cot. Your husband can sleep on that when he visits.”
“No, I don't love Max anymore. But I don't want to give you this broken, empty me. I want you to have me when I'm full, when I can give something back to you. I don't have much to give right now.”
“I look at you, and I think about you, and ... I don't know. No one has ever confounded me the way you do.”
“What do you say to someone who is not the same and yet completely the same?”
“My voice, when it emerged, cracked a little. “I’m not in love with a ghost.”
“I thought about how one tiny decision can change a life. A decision that takes only a split second to make.”
“I know this is like the longest story ever, but I really just wanted you to know the other side. (And besides, Bendomolena’s been on my lap this whole time and once Bendomolena decides to sit on you,get comfortable, because you’re not going anywhere for awhile.) Anyway, James is coming over in fifteen minutes so we can go with Victoria and Jonah to see New Nostalgia, and I still have to figure out what I’m wearing.
Like the Beatles said, “O-bla-di, o-bla-da, life goes on.”
And it does.
Rock on.”
“Anastasia reached the attic stairs, slowed down, and listened. She knew that the first step to asking about secrets is seeing how much you can find out by sneaking.”
“L'existentialiste, au contraire, pense qu'il est très gênant que Dieu n'existe pas, car avec lui disparaît toute possibilité de trouver des valeurs dans un ciel intelligible; il ne peut plus y avoir de bien a priori, puisqu'il n'y a pas de conscience infinie et parfaite pour le penser; il n'est écrit nulle part que le bien existe, qu'il faut être honnête, qu'il ne faut pas mentir, puisque précisément nous sommes sur un plan où il y a seulement des hommes.”
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