“Charles, mate, you fret too much. I'm a grown man, I am, and I can blood my handle.""Handle your blood?" Bones offered dryly.Ian grinned. "Exactly.”

“I'm selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.”

“You asked me who I belong to," he whispered. "I belong to you. Your blood is my blood, your bones my bones. The first time you saw me, I looked familiar, didn't I? Just like you looked familiar to me.”

“I'm jealous of her. Can you be jealous of your mom for being able to handle things? I couldn't take a day off, take a dog to the vet, and cook dinner. That's like three times too much stuff for me to get done in one day. How am I ever going to have my own house?”

“Thank you for knowing exactly how to handle me, because sometimes I'm not even sure how to handle myself.”

“I mean it. Like, people always talk about how God doesn’t ever give you more than you can handle, but I’m telling you right now, I cannot handle this. This is just too much!”