I think he just gets like this sometimes. Like he needs to pull away. I think of it like winter. During winter, it isn't that the sun is gone (or cheating on you with another planet). You can still see it in the sky. It's just farther away.

With Attachments, my goal was to write a really good romantic comedy. I wanted the reader to be smiling throughout.

He already knows what I look like," Cath said. "There's no point in being tricky about it now." "How is doing your hair--and maybe putting on some lip gloss--being tricky?" "It's like I'm trying to distract him with something shiny.

Nothing was dirty. With Park. Nothing could be shameful. Because Park was the sun, and that was the only way Eleanor could think to explain it.

She’d majored in English, hoping that meant she could spend the next four years reading and writing. And maybe the next four years after that.

You give away nice like it doesn't cost you anything.

Take your vitamins. Don't drink vodka. Get used to empire waistlines.