Hello friends. This post is a collection of quotes from the book - Beach Read by Emily Henry. Beach Read is about a romance writer who no longer believes in love and a literary writer stuck in a rut engage in a summer-long challenge that may just upend everything they believe about happily ever afters.
Sure, love happens. But it's better to be realistic so shit's not constantly blowing up in your face. And love is way more likely to blow up in your face than to bring eternal happiness. And if it doesn't hurt you, then you're the one hurting someone else.
It's always harder to write when you have to. It's like ... the pressure turns it into a job, like anything else, and you might as well be selling insurance. The story suddenly loses any urgency to be told.
You know, maybe the reason you haven't been able to finish your book is that you keep asking what someone else wants to read instead of what you want to write.
I wasn't big on cooking myself - it took too much time I never felt like I had - but there was definitely something romantic about pouring two glasses of red wine and moving around a clean kitchen, chopping and rinsing, stirring and sampling tastes from a wooden spoon.
It didn't take inspiration to dredge up a list of plot points, but to find that moment - the perfect moment that defined a book, that made it come alive as something greater than the sum of its words - that required an alchemy you couldn't fake.
I could plot all day, but it didn't matter if I didn't fall into the story headfirst, if the story itself didn't spin like a cyclone, pulling me wholly into itself. That was what I'd always loved about reading, what had driven me to write in the first place. That feeling that a new world was being spun like a spiderweb around you and you couldn't move until the whole thing had revealed itself to you.
I know feeling small gets to some people, but I kind of like it. Takes the pressure off when you're just one life of six billion at any given moment. And when you're going through something hard, it's nice to know you're not even close to the only one.
Outwardly we were so different, but when it came down to it, we both wanted the same thing. A life cast in a magical glow, every moment bigger and brighter and tastier than the last.
I wanted to know whether you could ever fully know someone. If knowing how they were - how they moved and spoke and the faces they made and the things they tried not to look at - amounted to knowing them. Or if knowing things about them - where they'd been born, all the people they'd been, who they'd loved, the worlds they'd come from - added up to anything.
I was a freak. I think being an only child did that. My parents treated me like a living TV. Like I was just this hilarious, interesting baby genius. I seriously spent most of my life delusively confident in myself and my future.
Trust me. You just have to open your heart. If you can do that, your world's going to be a much brighter place from now on.
In my mind marriage has always been this sacred thing, you know? Like the epitome of love, the kind that can weather anything. And I hate thinking some bad experiences justify people shitting on the entire concept.
I thought - think it's brave to believe in love. I mean, the lasting kind. To try for that, even knowing it can hurt you.
Sometimes - sometimes good, or at least decent, people do bad things. And sometimes they actually believe they're doing what's right.
That's the key to marriage. You have to keep falling in love with every new version of each other, and it's the best feeling in the whole world.
When you love someone, you want to make this world look different for them. To give all the ugly stuff meaning, and amplify the good. That's what you do.
Love, after all, was often made not of shiny things but practical ones. Ones that grew old and rusted only to be repaired and polished. Things that got lost and had to be replaced on a regular basis.
People were complicated. They weren't math problems; they were collections of feelings and decisions and dumb luck. The world was complicated too, not a beautifully hazy French film, but a disastrous, horrible mess, speckled with brilliance and love and meaning.
Being a parent feels like being a kid who someone has mistakenly handed another kid. "Good luck!" this unwise stranger cries before turning his back on you forever.
We will always make mistakes, I'm afraid. I hope they will get smaller and smaller as we get bigger and bigger. Older, really; we're rather done growing.
Sometimes life is very hard. Sometimes it demands so much of you that you start losing pieces of yourself as you stretch out to give what the world wants to take.
That is how life feels too often. Like you're doing everything you can to survive only to be sabotaged by something beyond your control, maybe even some darker part of yourself.