“Do you love him?"How would I know?"You'd know.”

“And before you barrel through some idiotic Cosmo girl list of how-well-do-you-know-your-man questions, let me say that I don't know squat about him except that he kisses like a god and screws like a devil.”

“Madelaine: I guess it's up to you to carve the turkey.Angel: Come on, bro, show me how to carve up this bird.Francis: Start at the breast, Angel. God knows, you should know how to do that.”

“I didn't know how...deep love ran, how it was in your blood, not your heart, and how that same blood pumped through your veins your whole life.”

“How did you tell a man that you'd grown up, that you'd learned true love wasn't a night of passionate sex under a sky lit up by fireworks, but an ordinary Sunday morning when your husband brought you a glass of water, two aspirins, and a heating pad for your cramps?”

“I know about forgiving people and loving them anyway, even after they hurt you.”

“Here's what you need to know: some cliches are true, and war is definitely hell. It's being afraid all the time, and when you're not afraid it's because you're pumped full of adrenaline you could literally burst. It's watching people who you love- really profoundly love- get blown to pieces right next to you. It's seeing a leg lying in the ditch and picking it up to put it in a bag because no man- or part of a man, your friend- can be left behind. It's the dark night of the soul. There's no front line over there. The war is all around them, every day, everywhere they go. Some handle it better than others. We don't know why, but we do know this: the human mind can't safely or healthily process that kind of carnage and uncertainty and horror. It just can't. No one comes back from war the same.”