“I tilt my head and ask “What firsts have wealready passed?”“The easy ones,” he says. “First hug, first date, first fight, first time we slept together,although I wasn’t the one sleeping. Now we barely have any left. First kiss. First time tosleep together when we’re both actually awake. First marriage. First kid. We’re doneafter that. Our lives will become mundane and boring and I’ll have to divorce you andmarry a wife who’s twenty years younger than me so I can have a lot more firsts andyou’ll be stuck raising the kids.” He bring his hand to my cheek and smile at me. “So yousee, babe? I’m only doing this for your benefit. The longer I wait to kiss you, the longerit’ll be before I’m forced to leave you high and dry.”

“Raising children I’ve decided is a lot sadder than I expecte4d. Seeing them grow up brightly and vividly is tempered by the knowledge that each year brings another share of lasts. The last time I push my daughter on a swing. The last time I play Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus. The last time I read a bedtime story. If I could give my daughters one piece of advice I would tell them to make the most of the first times -their first kiss, their first date, their first love, the first smile of their first child…There can only be one.”

“I want YOU to be the one wanting me first. Pushing me first. Kissing me first. Don't be careful with me," he said. "Because I won't be careful with you.”

“Man, first I’m shot, now I’m going to be a friggin’ zombie. At this rate, I’ll never live to have my first date or a driver’s license. Ah, gah! I’ve come too far to die a predestrian virgin. Bubba, you can’t let me die…I only have seventeen more months and three days to my sixteenth birthday! (Nick)”

“The first kiss, the first time my lips were on yours...the hell...I wouldn't take one moment of it back...”

“The first time I saw you,' he says, 'I knew we belonged together.”