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.

But there's nothing more profound than creating something out of nothing.

He didn't take her breath away. Maybe the opposite. But that was okay-that was really good, actually, to be near someone who filled your lungs with air.

You flirt with old people and babies and everybody in between.

I miss you, Eleanor. I want to be with you all the time. You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, and the funniest, and everything you do surprises me. And I wish I could say that those are the reasons I like you, because that would make me sound like a really evolved human being …‘But I think it’s got as much to do with your hair being red and your hands being soft … and the fact that you smell like homemade birthday cake

Don't bite his face, Eleanor told herself. It's disturbing and needy and never happens in situation comedies or movies that end with big kisses.

Looks like somebody's got jungle fever.' 'That's not even the right kind of racist.