“Why, you love him! Your fear, your terror, all of that is just love and love of the most exquisite kind, the kind which people do not admit even to themselves.”

“Do your kind even know what love is? Can you feel anything at all, or is it just... programmed?”

“I just do. That’s why it’s love—it’s unconditional. Whether you commit a mistake or a hundred, I would still love you. They say the most romantic kind of love is the unfinished kind. The kind that will forever burn and mark your soul—you’ve bewitched me, body and soul. I love you—and whether you do or don’t feel the same, my love is withstanding and unequivocal.”

“I thought of all the different kinds of love in the world. I could think of ten without even trying. The way parents love their kids, the way you love a puppy or chocolate ice cream or home or your favorite book or your sister. Or your uncle. There's those kinds of love and then there's the other kind. The falling kind.”

“You love your work. God help you, you love it! And thats the curse. That's the brand on your forehead for all of them to see. You love it and they know it, and they know they have you. Do you ever look at the people in the street? Aren't you afraid of them? I am. They move past you and they wear hats and they carry bundles. But that's not the substance of them. The substance of them is hatred for any man who loves his work. That's the only kind they fear. I don't know why”

“Just like with love. It's all or nothing. ... That's why love is dangerous. We stand up for love. We take risks. Well, you of all people know about that - your own Soviet Russia, an entire nation rearranged to discourage love for anything other than one's country.' Because love caused people to think for themselves, to look out for themselves and their loved ones.”