Tuesday, December 11, 2012
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight - Pg 188
Hadley didn't know it was possible to miss someone who's only a few feet away, but there it is: She misses him so much it nearly flattens her. Because all of a sudden it all seems so horribly senseless, how much time she's spent trying to push him out of her life.
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight - Pg 170
Back home in Connecticut, there's a bird bath just outside her kitchen window, which Hadley used to look out at while doing th dishes. The most frequent cisitors were a pair of sparrows who used to fight for their turn, one hopping around the edge and chirping loudly as the other bathed, and then vice versa. occasionally one would dart at the other, and both would flap their wings and lurch backward again, making ripples in the water. But although they generally spent the entire time squabbling, they always arrived together, and they always left together.
There's something of that in Oliver now, a reckless confusion that makes him seem more lost than sad.
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight - Pg 153
But Hadley understood. It wasn't that she was meant to read them all. Maybe someday she would, but for now, it was more the gesture itself. He was giving her the most important thing he could, the only way he knew how.
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight - Pg 88
She thinks of the way they stood together near the bathroom, how it seemed like they'd been on the brink of something, of everything, like the whole world was changing as they huddled together in the dark. And now here they are, like two polite strangers, like she'd only ever imagined the rest of it. She wishes they could turn around again and fly back in the other direction, circling the globe backward, chasing the night they left behind.
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight - Pg 88
There's no real distinction between last night and this morning, of course--just dark bleeding into light--but even so, everything feels horribly different.
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight - Pg 65
It was his fault, all of it, and yet her hatred for him was the worst kind of love, a tortured longing, a misguided wish that made her heart hammer in her chest.
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight - Pg 53
Whenever Hadley was upset about something, Dad would simply rest a hand on top of her head and steer her upstairs. "Time to consult the elephant," he'd announce, and somehow, it always worked. It's really only now that it occurs to her that Dad probably deserved more of the credit than the little elephant.
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight - Pg 37
There's always a gap between the burn and the sting of it, the pain and the realization.
The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight - Pg 31
Is it possible not to ever know your type--not to even know you have a type--until quite suddenly you do?
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