“--I don’t quite grasp your meaning.--Just as I don’t quite understand what I am saying. But back to the point….”
“I love you and you understand what that phrase means to me. I don’t say it…to anyone…ever.”
“I don’t quite know how to respond to people who say that I dance like my genitals are on fire. I usually just blush and brush aside their flattery.”
“How am I supposed to stop caring? I’ve loved them since I was four years old, and I don’t know how to quit.”
“I love you, Eliza,” I said.She thought about it. “No,” she said at last, “I don’t like it.”“Why not?” I said.“It’s as though you were pointing a gun at my head,” she said. “It’s just a way of getting somebody to say something they probably don’t mean. What else can I say, or anybody say, but, ‘I love you, too’?”
“I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.”