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“The fire burned down to embers and I stayed there until my back hurt from leaning on a hope chest. Then I picked her up and carried her to bed. And while she was cradled in my arms, she muttered something about teleporting.”

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“Standing there on the beach, with the sand underneath our feet, the Pacific Ocean in front of us, and our home just a few miles away, I wondered how I got so lucky to be given everything I ever wanted.”

“The only thing the sport gives us are moments. But what the hell is life, Peter, apart from moments?” (108).

“For even though my plan went so wrong, even though it ended in such disaster, there—in the designing of the plot, in its conception—it was beautiful.

That’s my story, in a nutshell. A tale of beautiful, well-intentioned failure—ending in death. Which is a pretty good metaphor for life, isn’t it?” (216).

“Reason is always apparent to a discerning eye. But luck? It’s invisible, erratic, angelic. What could possibly be better, from our point of view, than allowing Bunny to choose the circumstances of his own death?” (255).

“I suppose at one time in my life I might have had any number of stories, but now there is no other. This is the only story I will ever be able to tell.”

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i’m actually crying

“You’re coming in as well?” she asked.
He looked at her as if she’d suddenly gone daft. “Of course.”
She didn’t move, too perplexed by his actions… There was certainly no reason he had to accompany her inside…
“For God’s sake, Penelope,” he said… “Are you going to marry me or not?”



SCREAMING

…before he even realized what he was doing, he’d facilitated Penelope’s departure, and she left the scene without his ever having apologized to her.
He supposed he should have deemed the evening a failure for that reason alone, but in all truth, he couldn’t bring himself to do so.
After all, he’d spent the better part of five minutes holding her hand.



this is ADORABLE

Finally, Kate stepped down.
And Anthony realized he’d been holding his breath.
…There were some bonds, he was coming to realize, that were stronger than those of blood. These were not bonds he had room for in his life.
Why was why, when he married, the face behind the veil would have to be Edwina Sheffield’s.

idk how reid does it but the subtle shift and build up to carrie’s mindset change is amazing

You could not pay me enough money to go back to being 17. When I was 17, my talent was all potential and no proof. The world was a giant set of unknowns, barely any past to pull from.
I am so grateful… for every match and every win and every loss and every lesson that I have behind me. It feels so good, right now, to be 37 years old. To have figured at least some things out.
To know the ground underneath my feet.

I LOVE JAV AND B LMAO

I do not look at my father. I do not want to see the worry in his eyes. I tell myself: ‘Do not let her win this set. You are either a champion or a fuckup. There is no in-between.’



i love where this is going for her character development

“Are you serious? What should I have done instead? Hung around and become a joke? Let everyone see me limping to the finish line?”
…”You act like you’ve dedicated your life to tennis. But you came back to win, not to play. That’s why they’re all pissed at you for returning. You’ve got no heart.”

“You hurt your knee, you lost a couple matches, and you gave up… I stuck around. I had the guts to try. I have the guts to lose. You, you just run. Well, guess what, Carrie? People who are actually playing the game LOSE. We all lose. We lose ALL THE TIME. That is life. So we are not the same, Soto. I have courage. You’re just good at tennis.”
…”You’re mad at me because I retired?” I ask.

“Let’s do this. Let’s train and let’s win the French Open together.”
Bowe laughs. “It’s oddly sweet that you think I can win the French Open. But okay, yeah.”
“I guess if we’re being honest, I did mean me more than you.”
Bowe laughs again, this time wild and delighted. And I can’t help but smile.
“There you go. That’s the Carrie Soto we all know and love.”

I want to win the goddamn French Open with my whole gut. I want to shock every commentator out there who thinks I can’t do it. I want to make Elite Gold vomit regret. And then I want them all to sit at my feet and sob, begging for forgiveness.

And yet, no matter what type of woman you are, we all still have one thing in common: Once we are deemed too old, it doesn’t matter who we used to be.

“How confident do you feel?”
I smile wide, and it grows into a laugh. “I’m gonna crush Carla Perez and anyone else I play on my way to the final. I am going to hold their beating hearts in my hand.”
For a fraction of a second, none of the reporters in the room know quite what to say.
God, I’ve missed this.

THE 1995 AUSTRALIAN OPEN

i’m so nervous, oh GOD

“I guess this is it. No turning back now.”
“No, I suppose not,” he says. “But you wouldn’t turn back even if you could, Soto.”

The night before the Australian Open… I have sat outside looking at this river so many times in my life—as a rookie, as a challenger, as a champion. Now it’s as a comeback. I am both stunned to find myself here again and positively sure I’ve never left.

Some men’s childhoods are permitted to last forever, but women are so often reminded that there is work to be done.

And yet here is Carrie Soto, daring to play.

“The Battle Axe doesn’t talk to us,” she said. “We are beneath her.”
…”I am ranked number two. And you are ranked—what? Maybe thirty? So in this case, yes, you are beneath me.”

It was okay to win as long as I acted surprised when I did and attributed it to luck. I should never let on how much I wanted to win or, worse, that I believed I deserved to win. And I should never… admit that I did not believe all of my opponents were just as worthy as I was.
The commentators… wanted a woman whose eyes would tear up with gratitude, as if she owed them her victory… owed them everything she had.

SOME JACKS BACSTORY


is he the archer??????!!!!!!!

“Now, did you want something? Or just my attention?”
He flashed one of his dimples as his mouth formed a mocking smirk.
Evangeline hadn’t missed this at all. “You’re asking the wrong girl, Jacks. Unlike HER, I know you’re not a god.”
“Yet you’re the one who prayed at my church.”

She used to think love was like a house. Once it was built, a person got to live in it forever. But now she wondered if love was more like a war with new foes constantly appearing and battles creeping up. Winning at love was less about succeeding in a battle and more about continuing to fight, to choose the person you loved as the one you were willing to die for, over and over.