I cannot form any coherent semblance of thought, so for the moment I'm jotting a few favorite quotes while the story settles in my head & heart. Both of which are a huge jumble of happiness & heartache & hope. Ms. Rowell, this is a unique, wonderful, beautifully written story. It's a good thing I hadn't read this before our trip to Omaha last week, otherwise I'd have tracked you down to give you a mix tape & some Avon samples as show of gratitude for your beautiful story-telling.
"Don't bite his face, Eleanor told herself. It's disturbing & needy & never happens in situation comedies or movies that end with big kisses."
"I'm sorry about yesterday," she said.
He hung onto his straps and shrugged. "Yesterday happens."
GOD, it was like he wanted her to eat his face clean off.
Thinking about going out with Park, in public, was kind of like thinking about taking your helmet off in space.
"You look like you, " he said. "You with the volume turned up."
“You can be Han Solo,” he said, kissing her throat. “And I’ll be Boba Fett. I’ll cross the sky for you.”
His parents never talked about how they met, but when Park was younger he used to try to imagine it. He loved how much they loved each other. It was the thing he thought about when he woke up scared in the middle of the night. Not that they loved HIM--they were his parents, they had to love him. That they loved each other. They didn't have to do that.
There's a place on his chest, just below his throat, that makes me want to let him open doors for me. There's only one of him.