Nothing was dirty. With Park. Nothing could be shameful. Because Park was the sun, and that was the only way Eleanor could think to explain it.

She smiled, and her eyes started to drift downward. "Cather..." Back up to his eyes. "You know that I'm falling in love with you, right?

So, what if, instead of thinking about solving you whole life, you just think about adding additional good things. One at a time. Just let your pile of good things grow.

In new situations, all the trickiest rules are the ones nobody bothers to explain to you. (And the ones you can't Google.)

You're a kaleidoscope, you change every time I look away.

Drinking tequila is more about the journey than the destination

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

Sometimes writing is running downhill, your fingers jerking behind you on the keyboard the way your legs do when they can’t quite keep up with gravity.

You don’t have to be the kind of beautiful that everyone can agree on. If the right person finds you beautiful, you win. You win forever.

To really be a nerd, she'd decided, you had to prefer fictional worlds to the real one.

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.

Hours of being asked:"Do you understand?" But for all of her answers, she never got around the one question I had wanted to ask."What does it feel like?

As history has repeatedly proven, one trade tariff begets another, then another - until you've got a full-blown trade war. No one ever wins, and consumers always get screwed.

Being a team player should not imply a demand for simple obedience and conformity.

I don't believe in fate, as in, which I - as a Catholic, I think, sort of predestination. But I certainly believe in chance.

The vain being is the really solitary being.

The body is the instrument of the soul.

I realized that I'm a child." William looked point-blank at her chest. "No.

The women of the French Resistance astounded me. Isabelle and Vianne [from The Nightingale] are my homage to those brave and forgotten women.

Pard, we will meet again in the Happy Hunting Ground To part no more, Goodbye