“Love like that? Hell, it seems so pure, it's damn near criminal.”
“We have a love so pure that it makes snow seem yellow. (Don’t eat it!)”
“Pure love was always difficult to witness. Why was that, she wondered? Because it was so rare? So beautiful? SO damned unattainable for most of the poor saps muddling through this life?”
“Is it possible for a person to love without wanting love back? Is anything so pure? Or is love, by its nature, a reciprocity, like oceans and clouds, an evaporating of seawater and a replenishing by rain?”
“So this is what it's like to be in love?" he mused quietly. And then he frowned. "Damn. Now what do I do?”
“Black as the devil, hot as hell, pure as an angel, sweet as love.”