“Slowly but surly I want to strip her of every kind of happiness as to make a saint of her.”

“She walks slowly. She wants to feel the prick, the push of every bit of gravel under her shoe. She wants to feel every scratch, every discomfort of this....her leaving walk.”

“I wanted to make love to her, intertwine my fingers and my body with hers, drink her in and inhale every inch of her, memorize her skin.”

“If you want to do something very praiseworthy and very saintly, make a child happy!”

“We've got work to do. Strip." "Strip for what?" "I'm going to measure you for your dress. Strip!" Rachel saved me…sort of. "You can do her measurements with her clothes on, Mamma," she chastised. "Oh, I know I can." She pointed at me. "But look at her face! Ha! I just wanted to see her face pucker up like that.”

“I was here for Meghan. Because I loved my princess and I wanted her to be happy. Even if her happiness meant she was with someone else. Even if that someone else was my arch rival. I wanted her to be happy.”