Rainbow Rowell Quotes - Page 8

She didn't know there were things worse than selfish.

That girl had the subtlety of a Spencer’s Gifts shop.

I don’t trust anybody. Not anybody. And the more that I care about someone, the more sure I am they’re going to get tired of me and take off.

You’re a sad little hermit, and it creeps me out.

How do you feel when I smile at you?" he asked - and then he did smile at her, just a little. Not like myself, Cath thought. "Like an idiot," she said softly. "And I never want it to stop.

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

You can park your snark at the gate, Omaha.

So why aren’t you living with your sister?” “She wanted to meet new people,” Cath said. “You make it sound like she broke up with you.

You know," he said, "I keep wanting to say that it's like Simon Snow threw up in here... but it's more like someone else ate Simon Snow—like somebody went to an all-you-care-to-eat Simon Snow buffet—and then threw up in here.

In some cases, she was actively trying not to make friends, though she usually stopped short of being rude. (Uptight, tense, and mildly misanthropic? Yes. Rude? No.)

I know what it’s like to be distracted. To seek out distractions. To exhaust yourself doing every other little thing rather than face a blank page

"What about him?" she’d say, finding an attractive guy to point out while they were standing in the lunch line. "Do you want to kiss him?" "I don’t want to kiss a stranger," Cath would answer. "I’m not interested in lips out of context."

Real life was something happening in her peripheral vision.

A little manic was what their house ran on.

She carried herself like she was exactly the size everyone else wanted to be.

I object to every single thing you just said.

He looked like someone with a steerage ticket on the titanic. Somebody who'd be standing in line at Ellis Island. Undiluted and old-blooded. Also cute.

That was the beauty in stacking up words--they got cheaper, the more you had of them.

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

I'd rather be broken than wasted.

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.

She didn't want to run, period. It made her breasts feel like they were going to detach from her body.

You can’t take back texts. If you come off all moody and melancholy in a text, it just sits there in your phone, reminding you of what a drag you are.

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.

All of her bones seemed more purposeful than other people’s. Like they weren’t just there to hold her up, they were there to make a point.