“See? Instead of thinking of a way to help my people, all I can think of is the smell of your hair and that small dimple on your cheek when you smile.” (Victor)”

“I don’t know who those other people are and what they did to you, but I’m not one of them,” I whispered, on the verge of tears. (Molly)“You are. You just don’t know yet.” (Victor)”

“Oh, God … you’re so beautiful,” I said in a weak voice, my head enchanted. He smiled at me and turned to the thin, elderly lady next to him whose skin seamed with wrinkles.“She must still have a fever,” Victor said, fighting a smile, which just made him even more breathtaking.”

“Oh my God. I thought I was going to have an aneurysm right there in line. Your hair smells really good? Your hair smells really good? Who did he think he was? James Bond? You don't tell someone their hair smells good. Not in a mall.”

“I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses...the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life...to lie in your arms as I take my last breath.”

“Just remember that sometimes, the way you think about a person isn’t the way they actually are… People are different when you can smell them and see them up close…”

“I stay because there is an extraordinary difference between thinking of you and seeing you in the mortal flesh. I stay for the one moment you smile throughout the day. Or to watch you run your hand through your hair. Because I must, must –" his breath was short – "must be near you, in any way I can.”