“You tell me you love me, but I’m not sure you know what love is, or how fast it flies, or how much it resembles a UFO, or what kind of weapon you’d use to shoot it down.”

“Tell me how much you know of the sufferings of your fellow man and I will tell you how much you have loved them.”

“You may not have noticed, but I’m not what you’d call conventionally beautiful. In fact, you might say that I’m the opposite of that. Say, you know - to vocalize, sometimes ad nauseam? Do you think that there’s any minute in any day when I’m not aware of how big I am? Do you think there’s a single minute that goes by when I’m not thinking about how other people see me? Even though I have no control whatsoever over that? Don’t get me wrong - I love my body. But I’m not so much of an idiot to think that everybody else loves it. What really gets to me- what really bothers me - is that it’s all people see.”

“This is how it works. I love the people in my life, and I do for my friends whatever they need me to do for them, again and again, as many times as is necessary. For example, in your case you always forgot who you are and how much you're loved. So what I do for you as your friend is remind you who you are and tell you how much I love you. And this isn't any kind of burden for me, because I love who you are very much. Every time I remind you, I get to remember with you, which is my pleasure.”

“If I searched a hundred years, I couldn’t find the words to tell you how you make me feel…or how much I love you. Do you know that?”

“Have you ever been in love, Hadrian?”“I’m not sure. How do you tell?”“Love? Why, it’s like coming home.”Hadrian considered the comment.“What are you thinking?” Bulard asked.Hadrian shook his head. “Nothing.”“Yes, you were. What? You can tell me. I’m an excellent repository for secrets. I’ll likely forget, but if I don’t, well, I’m an old man in a remotejungle. I’m sure to die before I can repeat anything.”Hadrian smiled, then shrugged. “I was just thinking about the rain.”