“And because Scarlet loved pancakes...That’s what he would do. Make pancakes and flee.”

“What are you doing?" He asks looking intimidating.I shrug, "I want pancakes.""I'll make you pancakes."I laugh and turn around to walk backwards, "I don’t want your pancakes. I want normal pancakes. Not head game pancakes. Not maybe I'll make you happy or maybe I'll scare the shit out of you pancakes. You know?”

“She tucked her lips in and eyed the pancakes Tristan pulled from the pan. "Making a midnight snack?"She tried to sound light and casual. Normal. Friendly.Not because Tristan deserved it, but because she wanted pancakes. And Tristan, apparently, was keeper of the pancakes.”

“Plus, in one of his e-mails, the guy said he didn't like pancakes. What kind of asshole doesn't like pancakes? ”

“If love melted like a statue made of butter, would you consider me a pancake or a waffle?”

“Dr. Jules Hilbert: Hell Harold, you could just eat nothing but pancakes if you wanted.Harold Crick: What is wrong with you? Hey, I don't want to eat nothing but pancakes, I want to live! I mean, who in their right mind in a choice between pancakes and living chooses pancakes?Dr. Jules Hilbert: Harold, if you pause to think, you'd realize that that answer is inextricably contingent upon the type of life being led... and, of course, the quality of the pancakes. ”