“I wonder if the ocean smells different on the other side of the world.”

“I love the smell of Waffle House; it's the smell of freedom, being on the open road and knowing that ninety percent of the people eating around you are also on that road. Truck driver's, road-trippers, hangovers--those who don't live that monotonous life of society slavery.”

“I do not want any guys to hit on me. Innocent flirting, fine -- it does wonders for my confidence -- but not douchebags.”

“She stops chewing and brings the chains on her wrist up to her nose and sniffs. She pulls away with a mild disgusted expression. "Definitely smells like a skank...”

“But how can two people who are undeniably more than just attracted to one another not give in? We've been on the road together for almost two weeks. We've shared intimate secrets and we've been intimate in some ways. We've slept next to each other and touched one another, yet still here we are, standing on opposite sides of a thick glass wall. We reach up and touch our fingers to the glass, we look into each others eyes and we know what we want but the glass won't fucking budge. This is either inviolable discipline or pure, unadulterated self-torture.”

“There was no logic or any sense of purpose except that I knew I had to do something other than what I was doing, or I might not make it through this.”

“I know you lost your partner in crime, but...I want YOU to be MINE. Maybe WE should travel the world together, Camryn...I know I can't replace your ex--""Andrew...it was always you.”