“She told me once that when she was with me she felt like the beautiful woman she never thought she'd be. I can't imagine what could ever make her think she wasn't beautiful enough to anyone, least of all me. She's the beautiful one. The most beautiful one in the world to me.”

“I whisper every word she needs to hear and I need to say. I tell her how beautiful she is. I tell her she amazes me. I make sure she knows she is the most precious person in the world to me. I make sure she understands what losing her means to me and how impossible it is to imagine my life without her.”

“She’s beautiful—broken and battered, still the most beautiful woman in the world to me—the only woman in the world for me.”

“I've made love to her -- finally and wholly, I've had her in every way I've wanted and needed. And I want more. I want to own her, and the idea she will someday share this with someone other than me is hard to swallow.”

“I don’t care if nobody else thinks I’m beautiful, because in this moment, I know Logan does. Eat your heart out Amy’s of the world…”

“Back and forth she went each morning by the river, spring arriving once again; foolish, foolish spring, breaking open its tiny buds, and what she couldn’t stand was how—for many years, really—she had been made happy by such a thing. She had not thought she would ever become immune to the beauty of the physical world, but there you were. The river sparkled with the sun that rose, enough that she needed her sunglasses.”

“Told her she was beautiful. Didn't give up when she didn't believe me.”