“You don’t have to say I love you to say I love you,” you said with a shrug. “All you have to do is say my name and I know.”“How?”When I looked down at you, I was struck by how much of myself I could see in the shape of your eyes, in the light of your smile. “Sa Cassidy,” you instructed.“Cassidy.”“Say…Ursula.”“Ursula,” I parroted.“Now….,” and you pointed to your own chest.“Willow.”“Can’t you hear it?” you said. ” When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it’s safe inside your mouth.”

“Can't you hear it?" you said. "When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it's safe inside your mouth.”

“When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it's safe inside your mouth.”

“You give her all your french fries, even when she won't give you back onion rings,' Sophie says. 'And when you say her name it sounds different.'How?'Sophie thinks. 'Like it's covered with blankets.”

“Marina sighs. “Love is like a tidal wave,” she says. “Because it sweeps you off your feet?” I ask. “No, because it sucks you under and you drown.” “But sometimes,” I point out, “it’s the only thing that keeps you afloat.”

“People always say that, when you love someone, nothing in the world matters. But that's not true, is it? You know, and I know, that when you love someone, everything in the world matters a little bit more.”

“How could I not have seen this coming, when I looked into your eyes and vowed to be with you forever?”