“He ran the back of his hand up her cheek, with the pretense of wiping away sweat. Do you think you could ever love me?I don't think so.Because I'm not good enough.It's not like that.Because I'm not smart.No.Because you couldn't love me.Because I couldn't love you.”

Jonathan Safran Foer

Jonathan Safran Foer - “He ran the back of his hand up...” 1

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