“Robbie turned to the house again. "Got a flashlight?" "Of course not." I smirked. "That would make me too well prepared, wouldn't it?”

“Ah, Robbie, when we are dead and buried in our porphyry tombs, and the trumpet of the Last Judgement is sounded, I shall turn and whisper to you, 'Robbie, Robbie, let us pretend we do not hear it.”

“Luke and his timing tapped me on the shoulder. What was I going to say to the best friend I ever had? Too bad you're an idiot and broke up with her, it's my turn. No, that wouldn't go over well.”

“I love you so much, Robbie. Sometimes it feels like too much.” His heart lurched as her eyes welled up. “But I trust it. I want it. And I want you. Always.”

“Someone's moved these crates away from the wall. Go up to the house, will you, and see if you can find a flashlight? I want a better look." "Here." She pulled out the small flashlight she'd stuck in her pocket. "Do you have any idea how annoying that is?" "I'll try not to do it again.”

“It was like fate was out to make me do everything I'd ever sworn I wouldn't in the course of twenty-four hours.”