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"That's different," Levi smiled at her warmly. "Ypu don't rock that Little Red Riding Hood vibe. You're scary." Reagan grinned like the Big Bad Wolf."
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"Never stay up on the barren heights of cleverness, but come down into the green valleys of silliness."

"Mr. Bennet, how can you abuse your own children in such a way? Youtake delight in vexing me. You have no compassion for my poor nerves.""You mistake me, my dear. I have a high respect for your nerves. Theyare my old friends. I have heard you mention them with considerationthese last twenty years at least."

"Did you hear what I was playing, Lane?I didn't think it polite to listen, sir."
Explore more quotes by Rainbow Rowell

"And there wasn't anything he wanted to do that he couldn't make time for. What did he have to mope about, really? What more did he want? Love, he could hear Eve saying. Purpose. Love. Purpose. Those are the things that you can't plan for. Those are the things that just happen. And what if they don't happen? Do you spend your whole life pining for them? Waiting to be happy?"

"Eleanor had never thought about killing herself " ever " but she thought a lot about stopping."

"How'd you know he was the one?""I didn't know. I don't think either of us knew."Heather rolled her eyes. "Neal knew - he proposed to you.""It's not like that," Georgie said. "You'll see. It's more like you meet someone, and you fall in love, and you hope that that person is the one - and then at some point, you have to put down your chips. You just have to make a commitment and hope that you're right."

"And what does it mean to take care of power? Do you use it? Conserve it? Keep it out of the wrong hands?"

"She kept forcing herself to remember the entire conversation, playing it back and playing it back, all the way through, forcing a finger down her memory's throat."

"Parfois, écrire se rapproche de la chute libre : vos doigts s'agitent sur le clavier comme vos jambes dans le vide."

"How many people make a career out of writing anyway?' Cath snapped. She felt like everything inside her was snapping. Her nerves. Her temper. Her esophagus. 'I'll write because I love it, the way other people knit or . . . or scrapbook. And I'll find some other way to make money."
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