“You're nothing but a sick child molester, and if were up to me, I'd toss you into the seventh circle of hell and walk away smiling. Now get out of my way- or do I have to make you?”

“You either trust me or you don't. I've never let you down, and I won't walk away unless you make me. Period. Now, unless you have a real emergency, I'd like to get back to my vacation. And my corpse, thanks.”

“I made up my mind that I'd get out of that place and I did...I learned that if you want to get somewhere, you just make up your mind and work like hell til you get there. If you want to go somewhere in life, you just have to work till you make it.”

“You switched the days," I said, dismayed. "You blew the tire. You..." I trailed off, probably because the next words out of my mouth were either going to be "You are enough to do this?" or "You're destined for a life of crime." It was a toss-up either way.”

“I go out of my way to make sure you don’t have any reason to feel jealous, but when you do get possessive, I like it. I want you to fight for me. I want you to care that much. I want you crazy about me. But possessiveness without trust is hell. If you don’t trust me, we’ve got nothing.”

“You're very welcome," she said, giving my hair a hard tug. "You should be used to being gawked at by now.""And yet I'm not.""Well, if it gets too bad, give me a signal, and I'll get up on the banquet table, toss my skirt over my head, and do a little dance. That way no one will be looking at you.”