“These things end,” she said. “They always end. Nobody marries their first love. First love is justthat. First. It’s implied that something else will follow.”

“All through first and second and third hour, Eleanor rubbed her palm. Nothing happened.How could it be possible that there were that many never ending all in one place?And were they always there, or did they just flip on wherever they felt like it? Because, if they were always there, how did she manage to turn doorknobs without fainting? Maybe this was why so many people said it felt better to drive a stick shift.”

“… ‘Didn’t you ever wonder what it would be like to be with someone else?’ And you’ll say… Lincoln, what will you say?”“I’ll say, ‘No.’”“That’s not very romantic.”“It’s none of their business.”“Tell me, then,” she said, unbuckling her seat belt and putting her arm around his waist. “Tell me now, won’t you ever wonder what it would have been like to be with someone else?”“First, buckle up,” he said. She did. “I won’t wonder that because I already know what it would be like to be with someone else.”“How do you know?” she said.“I just do.”“Then, what would it be like?”“It would be less,” he said.”

“He never hurries. He never shows his cards. He always hangs up first....Like when we first started talking on the phone, he would always be the one who got off first. When we kissed, he always pulled away first. He always kept me just on the edge of crazy. Feeling like I wanted him too much, which just made me want him more....[It was] excruciating and wonderful. It feels good to want something that bad. I thought about him the way you think about dinner when you haven't eaten for a day and a half. Like you'd sell your soul for it.”

“Lincoln?” she asked.“Yes?”“Do you believe in love at first sight?”He made himself look at her face, at her wide-open eyes and earnest forehead. At her unbearably sweet mouth.“I don’t know,” he said. “Do you believe in love before that?”Her breath caught in her throat like a sore hiccup.And then it was too much to keep trying not to kiss her.”

“The strange thing about seeing someone for first time in nine years is the way they look totally different, just for a second, a split second, and then they look at you the way they always have, as if no time has passed between you.”

“The first time he'd held her hand, it felt so good that it crowded out all the bad things. It felt better than anything had ever hurt.”