“This isn’t me saying yes, Holder. This is me saying please.”

“I am mad at you, Holder,” I say with an unsteady, but sure voice. “But no matter how mad I’ve been, I never for one second stopped wanting you here with me.”

“Want me to run with you?” he asks, nudging his head toward the sidewalk behind me. Yes, please.“No, it’s fine.”

“That's all I need," I say. "Well...I need the lamp. And the astray. And the remote control. And the paddleball game. And you, Dean Holder. But that's all I need”

“Holder: "You live over on Conroe, that's over two miles away."Sky: "You know what street I live on?"Holder: "Yeah. Linden Sky Davis, born September 29th. 1455 Conroe Street. Five feet three inches. Donor."Sky: [take a step backward and confused]Holder: "Your ID. You showed me your ID earlier. At the store."Sky: "You look at it for two seconds."Holder: "I have a good memory."Sky: "You stalk."Holder: "I stalk? You're the one standing in front of my house.”

“...in the midst of the worst day of my life, I find the strength to smile. "Thank you, Holder. So much. I couldn't do this without you." ... "Yes, babe. You could.”

“Okay. Would you rather I looked like Hugh Jackman or George Clooney?” “Johnny Depp,” she says. She answers a little too fast for my comfort. “What the hell, Lake? You’re supposed to say Will! You’re supposed to say you want me to look like me!” “But you weren't one of the options,” she says. “Neither was Johnny Depp!”