#this book please

[ubercharge]

so she has her first time in a little greenhouse garden and it’s movie-script perfect. c’mon hun. no way, no way. tell us the truth... don’t be afraid to spill the beans

[youmovemesir]

Sometimes I think about Laura Damián. Not often. Four or five times a day. Eight or sixteen times if I can't sleep, which makes sense since there's room for a lot of memories in a twenty-four-hour day. But usually I only think of her four or five times, and each memory, each memory capsule, is approximately two minutes long, although I can't say for sure because a little while ago someone stole my watch, and keeping time on one's own is risky.

- The Savage Detectives, Roberto Bolaño

[stephabitch]

Eleanor and park by rainbow rowell

They were both quiet.

“Ask me why I like you,” she finally said.

He felt himself smile. He felt like something warm had spilled in his heart. “Eleanor,” he said, just because he liked saying it, “why do you like me?”

“I don’t like you.”

He waited. And waited…

Then he started to laugh. “You’re kind of mean,” he said.

“Don’t laugh. It just encourages me.”

He could hear that she was smiling, too. He could picture her. Smiling.

“I don’t like you, Park,” she said again. “I…” She stopped. “I can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“So far, just for me.”

I’m afraid I’ll say too much,” she said.

“You can’t.”

“I’m afraid I’ll tell you the truth.”

“Eleanor…”

“Park.”

“You don’t like me…” he said, leading her, pressing the base of the phone into his lowest rib.

“I don’t like you, Park,” she said, sounding for a second like she actually meant it. “I…” –her voice nearly disappeared—“think I live for you.”