He wished that they could go through life like this. That he could physically put himself between Eleanor and the world.

All of her bones seemed more purposeful than other people’s. Like they weren’t just there to hold her up, they were there to make a point.

You act like there are two kinds of girls,' she said. 'The smart ones and the ones that boys like.

He tried to remember how this happened – how she went from someone he’d never met to the only one who mattered.

I don’t trust anybody. Not anybody. And the more that I care about someone, the more sure I am they’re going to get tired of me and take off.

Holding Eleanor's hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive.

Ah...' Park said, pained. 'What?' 'Those are alphabetized.' 'It's okay. I know the alphabet.' 'Right.' He looked embarrassed. 'Sorry.