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One finds a way of living for the sake of someone else's future. And it wasn't as if Ove also died when Sonja left him. He just stopped living.
Grief is a strange thing.

"God took a child from me, darling Ove. But he gave me a thousand others."
In the fourth year she died.


WAHHHH

Holy crap

"Men are what they are because of what they do. Not what they say."

Ah. So this is gonna be one of THOSE books, then. One of those books that rips your heart out. Bring it on.

I've feels and instinctive skepticism towards all people taller than six feet; the blood can't quite make it all the way up to the brain.

Pfft

Then, before she could walk away, he hugged her. She stood silently inside his arms for a moment, then shifted the baby so she could hug him back with one arm. His mouth was buried in her hair, and I was pretty sure I knew what he was saying: the Russian words for "I'm sorry". I had no doubt that he was. He would be sorry next time, too. And the time after that.

He writes of abuse just as well as everything else

We never know which lives we influence, or when, or why. Not until the future eats the present, anyway. We know when it's too late.

Leaving this place for Mercedes Street, where they celebrated the Fourth by blowing up chickens, began to seem increasingly mad to me.

Hahahahhaha

Oh my God

My revised version of Twelve Angry Men was canceled. What took place was Death of a Student, a play in three acts: the viewing at the funeral parlor, the service at Grace Methodist Church, the graveside service at West Hill Cemetery.

:(

Hairstyles change, and skirt lengths, and slang, but high school administrations? Never.

Hahahhaha

"You can skip the hydrogen peroxide. It happened four hours ago, and it's clotted. See?"
"Better safe than sorry," he said,then set the top of my head on fire.
"Ahhh!"
"Hurts, don't it? Because it's still open."

Hahahahha

Whew. Okay. Jesus.

SOMETHING BAD HAPPENED

OH SHOOT

He kept rubbing his chest, only stopping long enough to take his cigarettes from his breast pocket.
"Oh, that's a good idea," I said, "That'll help your heart a lot."
"Put a sock in it."

Hahahha only this guy would get so irritated that he would be so sarcastic at gun point

SPICY

SOMETHING BAD IS GOING TO HAPPEN

"Perfect spot. And malls? Do you know what malls are, my son?"
"The wave of the future," I said.
He pointed a finger at me like a gun and winked. I laughed again, I just couldn't help it.

This book has wonderful character interactions too

It doesn't matter if you're talking 1958, 1985, or 2011. In America, where surface has always passed for substance, people always believe guys like Frank Dunning.

I think, out of all the authors I have read, Stephen King knows how to use words the best

Ah, I love this era. Have a small idea of where the plot is going

She isn't seen as beautiful. She is beautiful, seen.

"It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. The story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story."

"Look!" he shouted tilting his head back, "Blue! Blue! Blue!" Elodin is one of my faves

DON'T MESS WITH KVOTHE'S FREAKING LUTE.

HOLY AGSHDJFKLGLG GUACAMOLE