47
" In essence, love makes no sense, In fact, there is more nonsense than sense in love. Great philosophers - Socrates, Plato and Aristotle alike, could only ponder on this delicate and mystifying subject, and that was way before I graced this planet with my own messed up resonance of amour. Perhaps, in an effort to make sense out of nonsense, the meaning of love was lost in translation over time, or by the mere fact that, to this day there has ben no valid interpretation. "
58
" -A Word On Statistics-Out of every hundred people, those who always know better:fifty-two.Unsure of every step:almost all the rest. Ready to help,if it doesn't take long:forty-nine. Always good,because they cannot be otherwise:fourwell, maybe five. Able to admire without envy:eighteen. Led to errorby youth (which passes):sixty, plus or minus. Those not to be messed with:four-and-forty. Living in constant fearof someone or something:seventy-seven. Capable of happiness:twenty-some-odd at most. Harmless alone,turning savage in crowds:more than half, for sure. Cruelwhen forced by circumstances:it's better not to know,not even approximately. Wise in hindsight:not many morethan wise in foresight. Getting nothing out of life except things:thirty(though I would like to be wrong). Balled up in painand without a flashlight in the dark:eighty-three, sooner or later. Those who are just:quite a few, thirty-five. But if it takes effort to understand:three. Worthy of empathy:ninety-nine. Mortal:one hundred out of one hundreda figure that has never varied yet. "
60
" Who’s winning?”
“I don’t have a f*cking clue nor do I f*cking care.”
Echo’s head ticks back.
“Back off, Beth.” I cross the room, drop a kiss on the curve of Echo’s neck and whisper in her ear, “She’d rip me to pieces, too, right now. She’s a b*tch when the Yankees play.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Is she a Red Sox fan?”
Isaiah chuckles and we both throw him a glare, but he doesn’t notice as he’s absorbed in a car manual.
“Beth hates baseball.”
Echo’s eyes dart from Beth to the television to me then she waves her hand in the air for an explanation.
“She watches,” I explain. “Yankees only. It’s what she does and there are some things we don’t question about each other.”
“Just the Yankees?” Echo whispers.
“Just the Yankees,” I repeat.
“And she hates baseball?”
“With a passion.”
“That’s...” Echo says in a hushed tone. “That’s messed up. "
― Katie McGarry , Breaking the Rules (Pushing the Limits, #1.5)