“In the plenitude of their relationship, Florentina Ariza asked himself which of the two was love: the turbulent bed or the peaceful Sunday afternoons, and Sara Noriega calmed him with the simple argument that love was everything they did naked. She said, 'Spiritual love from the waist up and physical love from the waist down.”
“Was she naked?" Lasher said. "To the waist," Cotsakis said. "From which direction?" Lasher said.”
“Aw, fuck me," she muttered. "Love to doll, but I'm sort of numb from the waist down," he said. "Can I take you up on it later, though?”
“I'm half italian""Which half" asked Tessa"From the waist down”
“If you love a waist, you waste a love.”
“She looked at him and realized that she loved him, out of nowhere, pure and simple. She loved him: this boy who fit so naturally in the water, the wild, and in everything else. She loved him: this boy who seemed to grow up out of the ground itself. There was a part of her that had known this from the first time she had seen him. This was what love was: a landslide in your heart.”