“I, um, I have this problem. I broke up with my boyfriend, you see. And I'm pretty upset about it, so I wanted to talk to my best friend. [...] The thing is, they're both you.”

“My boyfriend and I broke up. He wanted to get married adn I didn't want him to.”

“My friends call me by my name.""You don't have any friends.""I don't want you to be my friend, Selia, or my servant, not now. I thought you were both. You have let me know I was wrong. So are you to treat me so. You are wrong.”

“You know I meant it. I am human. And male. And not remotely blind. Do you want me to say it again? You are distractingly, even if-that-is-not-a-real-word pretty. You are so pretty that I bullied Clay Whitaker into drawing me a picture of you so I could look at you when you aren't around. You are so pretty that one of these days I'm going to lose a finger in my garage because I can't concentrate with you so close to me. You are so pretty that I wish you weren't so I wouldn't want to hit every guy at school who looks at you, especially my best friend.”

“Do you want to tell me why I'm getting the silent treatment?' He asked gruffly, his breath hot on my ear. I hunched up my shoulders, pulling away. His voice had an effect on my body and I didn't want him to know that. 'I'm talking to you.''Barely.''I've got a lot on my mind.''Do you want to talk about it?''When have I ever wanted to talk about it?”

“He's my best friend. We were catching up. I just told him that I forgive him for sleeping with my dad for the last four years and that I'm sleeping with my cousin's boyfriend.”