“She’d been with Blake for over an hour. It felt like minutes.”

“But it was a lie. She just craved more time with Blake. During those minutes each morning and evening, she felt herself becoming someone she’d never been before. Not someone else, really, but fully herself. She basked in Blake’s attention.”

“Better would be good. Because if she felt a little less like she’d been run over by a truck, she could jump on Dr. Hottie.”

“Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.”

“Elizabeth scowled, feeling like a nobody, a nothing. She felt like her entire self had been made worthless. She could change her interests, but she couldn’t change her looks. She’d never be six feet tall. She’d never look like a supermodel.”

“Albert Einstein once said, “Sit with a beautiful woman for an hour and it seems like a minute, sit on a hot stove for a minute and it seems like an hour—that’s relativity.”