I recently read and loved Beach Read, which came out today! So, I thought I’d share some of my favorite quotes from the book.
Sometimes I just missed liking people.
What’s it like writing Hemingway circle-jerk fanfiction?
I’d had two sips of Pete’s latte, and it was three sips too many.
Mom’s first diagnosis taught me that love was an escapee rope, but it was her second diagnosis that taught me love could be a life vest when you were drowning.
But whether or not I was actually succeeding at this book, I was writing it. It came in painful ebbs and desperate flows, as if timed to the waves crashing somewhere behind that wall of fog.
He laughed. “You know, maybe the reason you haven’t been able to finish your book is that you keep asking what someone else wants to read instead of what you want to write.”
Speaking of fire, sometimes his eyes seemed to be reflecting it, even though there wasn’t any. The car was nearly pitch-black for God’s sake. His eyes should be allowed, physically or morally, to glint like that. His pupils were disrespectful to the laws of nature.
I always feel like she’s drowning in life. In a good way. Like it’s rushing up her nose, you know?
“I knew you in college, January.”
“The seems like the biggest in a series of vast exaggerations you’ve made tonight.”
“Fine, I knew of you.”
“That,” he said while I was eating, and pointed at a pathetically small carousel. “That looks like it would have a really hard time killing me.”
“You’re as small as you are ridiculous.”
“So not very?”
“Come on, Gus,” I bumped his arm. “You can do it. Be adorable.”
His eyes darted to where I’d bumped him, then back to my face, and he scowled.
“I think you misunderstood me. I said adorable.”
The hardest thing had turned out to be being angry with someone you couldn’t fight it out with.
How the hell were people in books always taking cold showers?
“You mother has been a lot of people in the twenty years I’ve known her, and I’ve had a chance to fall in love with every single one of them, Janie. That’s the key to marriage. You have to keep falling in love with every new version of each other, and it’s the best feeling in the whole world.”
“I just remembered what you said about the bookshelf,” he said in a gravelly voice. “You can’t even stop roasting me when I’m losing my mind over your body.”
We’d just had sex like the world was burning down around us, but if I ever got to kiss Gus again, I wanted it to be this version of him. The one who didn’t feel so weighted down by the world around him that he had to lean just to stay upright.
I can miss my dad and hate him at the same time.
Gus touched the side of my face. “I don’t need snowflakes.” He kissed me. “As long as I have January.”
This is how life feels too often. Like you’re doing everything you can to survive only to be sabotaged by something beyond your control, maybe even some darker part of yourself.
Sometimes it was your body. Your cells turning into poison and fighting against you. Or chronic pain sprouting up your neck and wrapping around the outsides of your scalp until it felt like fingernails sinking in your brain.