“You're playing hookey for her? You met her, what, five minutes ago? And now she's what? Your girlfriend? Did you give her your varsity jacket?”

“You actually fucked her? What, did her forked tongue feel exceptionally good on your dick or something?" —Keely to Jack after meeting his ex-girlfriend.”

“I was proud of you today, handling William Long the way you did." Her fingers stilled. "What did you think of him the first time you met him?" she asked quietly. "That he was the kind of man you should have married." "And now you don't think that anymore?" "Now, it doesn't matter. You're married to me." "I was the night you met him." Jake's eyes met and held hers in the moonlight. "No, you weren't. Not really." His arm tightened around her. "But you are now.”

“I'm strong thanks to you, Kyra. You're my strength." And who the hell was she to put that burden on me? I was her strength? Then what did that mean as the cancer ate her from the inside out? What did that mean as she got weaker and weaker and weaker? When the cancer migrated her brain and made her forget things and space out randomly? You can't rely on other people to be your strength. You have to be your own strength.”

“I don't know whether you're lying to me or you're telling me the truth. But if you're telling me the truth, that she's dead, it's the best news that I ever heard. Nobody else is going to say this to you. Everybody else is going to commiserate. But I grew up with you. I talk straight to you. The best thing for you is for her to be dead. She did not belong to you. She did not belong to anything you were. She did not belong to anything anyone is. You played ball--there was a field of play. She was not on the field of play. She was nowhere near it. Simple as that. She was out of bounds, a freak of nature, way out of bounds. You are to stop your mourning for her. You've kept this wound open for twenty-five years. And twenty-five years is enough. It's driven you mad. Keep it any longer and it's going to kill you. She's dead? Good! Let her go. Otherwise it will rot in your gut and take your life too." That's what I told him. I thought I could let the rage out of him. But he just cried. He couldn't let it go. I said this guy was going to get killed from this thing, and he did.”

“You have what she needs," he said again. "And you're capable of giving her more than she'd ever bargained for because you love her. Wether she wants it or not, it's your gift to her. True love requires no reciprocation. True love is unconditional.”