“So, what, you just decided to sack out here and seduce me when I walked in the door? Home from spending the night at my boyfriend's? After having sex with him that could go in the Guinness Book of Records?”

“Is that what we come into the world for, to hurry to an office, and work hour after hour till night, then hurry home and dine and go to a theatre? Is that how I must spend my youth? Youth lasts so short a time, Bateman. And when I am old, what have I to look forward to? To hurry from my home in the morning to my office and work hour after hour after hour till night, and then hurry home again, and dine and go to a theatre? That may be worthwhile if you make a fortune; I don’t know, it depends on your nature; but if you don’t, is it worth while then? I want to make more out of my life than that, Bateman.”

“What happens style wise behind closed doors, in your home, shouldn't be incidental. Home isn't just where you stow your things or sack out for the night. It should be your private escape.”

“Can we go back to the part where you're in love with me?""No, because I'm not anymore. I've come to my senses.""That's a damn shame, that is. You'll have to wait here a minute. There's something I need from inside.""I'll not stand out here. I'm going home.""I'll only come after you, Brenna," he called over his shoulder as he walked to the door.”

“He may be your son, but it was my old boyfriend who got him in trouble. He lied to you. He lied to me. And I'm going up there so I can kick Nick's ass from here to the ever-after.”

“I want you to spend the night,” you said. And it was definitely your phrasing that ensured it. If you had said, “Let’s have sex,” or “Let’s go to my place,” or even “I really want you,” I’m not sure we would have gone quite as far as we did. But I loved the notion that the night was mine to spend, and I immediately decided to spend it with you.”