* Book read via NetGalley
“Dude, would you want to fight a drunk monkey?” They’re fucking huge.”
“That girl—all of them—hated Eleanor before they’d even laid eyes on her. Like they’d been hired to kill her in a past life.”
“Any cliché you’ve ever heard used to describe Clint Eastwood, those were Eleanor’s eyes.”
“Maybe I’m some sort of perverted cartoon-sexual.”
“Maybe this was why so many people said it felt better to drive a stick shift.”
“Jesus. Was it possible to rape somebody’s hand?”
“She could kiss him—or head-butt him—before he’d ever have a chance to pull away.”
“No, I love your name. I don’t want to cheat myself out of a single syllable.”
“I don’t like you,” he said. “I need you.”
“You have magic eyes,” she whispered. “And you make me feel like a cannibal.”
“He didn’t have bookmarklike feelings for her.”
“She was like one of those dogs who’ve tasted human blood and can’t stop biting. A walrus who’d tasted blood.”
“I’ll cross the sky for you.”
“You think you can intimidate me with your swanlike good looks, but I’m not that kind of girl.”
“Life’s a bastard.”
“The me that’s me right now is yours. Always.”
“Just three words long.”
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