“Did you know that people who meet at least three different times within twenty-four hour period are ninety-eight percent more likely to meet again?”

“People who meet in airports are seventy-two percent more likely to fall for each other than people who meet anywhere else.”

“What are you really studying?"He leans back to look at her. "The statistical probability of love at first sight.""Very funny," she says. "What is it really?""I'm serious.""I don't believe you."He laughs, then lowers his mouth so that it's close to her ear. "People who meet in airports are seventy-two percent more likely too fall for each other than people who meet anywhere else.”

“She's four minutes late, which doesn't seem like all that much when you think about it's a commercial break, the period within classes, the time it takes to cook a microwave meal. Four minutes is nothing.”

“Now Hadley presses her forehead against the window of the taxi and once again finds herself smiling at the thought of him. He's like a song she can't get out of her head. Hard as she tries, the melody of their meeting runs through her mind on an endless loop, each time as surprisingly sweet as the last, like a lullaby, like a hymn, and she doesn't think she could ever get tired of hearing it.”

“He’s like a song she can’t get out of her head. Hard as she tries, the melody of their meeting runs through her mind on an endless loop, each time as surprisingly sweet as the last, like a lullaby, like a hymn, and she doesn’t think she could ever get tired of hearing it.”

“That's the thing about flying: You could talk to someone for hours and never even know his name, share your deepest secrets and then never see them again.”