More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, the sea swells rolling
Staring down at him from the top of the steps, her features iced over. “Is that what you were thinking about when you were in Virginia? What we have?”
brutal
Molly couldn’t help but smell the burp of history.
Here, there—what difference did it make? It was the place from which Kitty would eventually abandon them all—her husband, her eleven-year-old son, her eight-year-old daughter—and run off to California with some doctor.
“Like there’s anything here worth stealing,” McGuinn quipped as he deposited his spittoon in a remote corner of the room, lest anyone mistake it for iced tea.
moved in during a period of—let’s just call it professional refocusing.
I couldn’t resist the promise in something called the Deluxe.
“Free? You must mean priceless.”
and then stated with the utmost earnestness that “those songs got me through kindergarten.”
Even lost, the men in the family still seemed to know the way.
swinging
Tim Buckley’s Blue Afternoon, and
bucket
My boss is a real stickler for the rules.” Naturally. Who but a perfectionist would permit pool water to turn the color of Shrek?
that Petra Kovacs
a hail-fellow-well-met,
“I can’t remember things I’ve never been told,” she said.
where the free fall was a ruse and the landings were always safe,
It had been nearly two years since they’d moved in with Jenny, a single, childless woman who sounded utterly thrilled to have these two young men in her East Baltimore home.
Or, the skin recognizes its own touch, which is why you can’t tickle yourself.
“Actually, my mom walked out on us too.” “Really?” said Gabe. “She fell in love with someone else and just ran off with him. Left us all behind—my dad, my brother, and me.” “She ever come back?” Gabe asked. Molly shook her head.
“Why would you be mad? You don’t even make roller coasters anymore.”
“Daddy, your eyes aren’t smiling,” she said. “Of course they are.” “No, they’re not. Your mouth is, but not your eyes.
“Say you’re sorry anyway,” Rachel said. “Sometimes I say I’m sorry even when I didn’t do anything wrong.” “Why do you do that?” “Mommy says it makes you a bigger person.”
beautiful Nouronnihar, in whom Rachel may have seen reflections of her Indian American mother.
“Fantastic,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll take one bite and forget all about how you fucked a Frenchwoman on a business trip.”
“I pushed Lara Buchman down the steps.” “And what did old Lara Buchman do to deserve that?” “Nothing specific. Just a lifetime of general assholery.”
“Was she hurt?” “It’s not like she died or anything. Just
“Here’s the thing,” she said.
I don’t give a giggleberry fuck that
Just your basic hallway tripping,
“Maybe I am a sociopath. I’m not going to beat myself up over it.”
as Skyler Jones.
And a classy restaurant is one that has multiple flavors of wings. Still interested?”
“Holy shit. That’s Joe, isn’t it?” “Joe?” “Joe Mama!”
Kitty reached out and glided the palm of her hand over her daughter’s wet cheek. She explored the architecture of her nose, the downy strands of her blonde tresses. She smiled with unsettling serenity, then stepped into the house and closed the door.
heartless BITCH
book was something he actually wanted to attempt. The idea having simmered in his imagination for weeks, the project had advanced from the conceptual stage—which consisted mainly of daydreaming—to the beginnings of a design. He was scribbling renderings now, and his sketchbook teemed with etchings and schematics, the fits and starts of a structure. Angles and slopes, parts and paths. How it might look were it actually to exist.
Interesting mix of engineer and artist mid. unusual
And, frankly, what I do know, I don’t like. Your dog
Charlie snapped her gum. “Let’s just say he’s not a fan.” “Shocker.”
“Separated?” “Charlie.” He sighed. “I don’t give interviews.” “I’m just trying to be a friend.” “We’re not friends.” “You know everything about me,” she said. “For your sake, I truly hope there’s more.” “Okay, let’s recap,” she began. “You have a wife but
Reality came down like a judge’s gavel the day Richard fired Bo. Molly should have seen it coming when the
music critic knocking on Richard’s office, saying, “You wanted to see me, boss?” When Bo went in and closed the door,
“shit-canned” by a “cardigan-loving fucksqueak,” and Molly was forced to confront the possibility that Richard was working his
Sometimes we choose our issues, Ms. Winger, but mostly they choose us.”
“All right,” Davis enthused. “Say more.” She sighed petulantly. “Say more without sighing petulantly.”
“Like for inertia, I think about some geek lifeguard who won’t lift his lazy ass out of his chair until an outside force comes along and changes his speed and direction.”
“Is it the same if the girl is thrown from a shittily designed log flume?” Charlie wondered.
touche. Charlie's not as dumb as he thinks
She had no idea what it was like to be like him, to be a carrier of that gene that made fast friends of everyone, to mosey through the
world with a picked-first-in-gym-class mentality.
He was a little gross, but gross was not the same thing as repellent.
