“How many ways can I say “I love you”? I could say it in another language, like French. I could say it through action, like a kiss. Or I could say it indirectly, like telling your best friend, April. Yes, I think I’m ready to tell April I love her.”

“I don’t know how to say it without saying it, so I’ll just not say it. Or I could show it, because that’s the only way to make love visible.”

“Love is to beer as I am to drunk. And you say I’m not romantic. Shoot, I’m so romantic I could just puke.”

“She said “I love you,” and I said the only thing I could say: “How about every other Tuesday?”

“She didn't say it, I only thought she said it. So really it was my thought, my words, and not hers. How could I confuse "I love you" with "May I take your order?”

“It's easy to say I love you, but much harder to show it. Be bold. Be in love—and show it. Love is like writing—show, don’t tell.”

“Love is the jelly to sunshine’s peanut butter. And if I tell you that I’m in sandwich with you, I’m not just saying it to get in your Ziploc bag.”