“she thinks we‟re both of the same species, but vultures don‟t make friends withhummingbird”

“We need to meet and flesh out the details of our... you know... whatever. I don't know what to call it. Our contract.""I was thinking the same thing. But can we call it our epic summer romance? Contract sounds so stuffy." He smiles again.”

“I pat the brand new twenty-seven inch Macintosh computers Mr. Foley brought us. 'These boxes alone should make both of us scream like it's Christmas morning! Snap out of it. Santa came! Now we get to play with all of our toys!”

“I swear you can see in Juliet's eyes that she knows she's going to die because of how she feels for this guy.I think, this scene is where the true tragedy lives. It's not because they both die in the end. The tragedy is all right there…in the very beginning. When he smiles at her. When she instantly forgets.Forgets how dangerous he is.You can't blame her for how it plays out. Romeo's so amazing in this movie—what he says to her—how he looks at her. She's obviously drowning in butterflies.I know for a fact now, butterflies like that can be horrible, beautiful things.”

“Don't say that. Don't even joke about it! The idea of ten weeks with a single, locked-down girlfriend—even the fake kind—gives me all over body hives. Sue me for making a face about that. I don't think you've thought any of this through. It would involve all of our friends, parents—even if we don't use my real name—text messaging, emails—and a lot of time. Time is something I don't have to burn. Plus, it would kill the variety of…of…yeah…girl fun in my summer,” I imply, wondering if she'll call my bluff. The only real summer varieties I score are the extra odd jobs I pick up at the rink. She turns bright red and I have to hide my smile. “Disgusting,” she snorts and reverts back to rubbing her temples.”

“Relentlessly, I read on: “Number one: Make at least two friends your own age. Number two: Go places besides your room. Number three: Get boyfriend. Number four: Make sure Mom and Dad notice numbers one through three.”

“We'll do roller. Okay?"She shrugs. "It's your funerals. Whatever you think will seem realistic, but know this: innocent children will die, limbs will break, and walls will come crashing down.”