“As a youth I got my jollies by confronting my professors with facts that ran completely contrary to what they were trying to ram into our thick skulls. His expressions of bafflement and anger had never failed to amuse me.”

“A very elementary exercise in psychology, not to be dignified by the name of psycho-analysis, showed me, on looking at my notebook, that the sketch of the angry professor had been made in anger. Anger had snatched my pencil while I dreamt. But what was anger doing there? Interest, confusion, amusement, boredom--all these emotions I could trace and name as they succeeded each other throughout the morning. Had anger, the black snake, been lurking among them? Yes, said the sketch, anger had.”

“I pounded the mattress with my fists. “You can’t tell me what to do anymore, Travis! I don’t belong to you!”In the second it took him to turn and face me, his expression had contorted into anger. He stomped toward me, planting his hands on the bed and leaning into my face.“WELL I BELONG TO YOU!” The veins in his neck bulged as he shouted, and I met his glare, refusing to even flinch. He looked at my lips, panting. “I belong to you,” he whispered, his anger melting as he realized how close we were.”

“The destiny of every human being is decided by what goes on inside his skull when confronted by what goes on outside his skull.”

“I would never give up on you, Alex. Never.""Then why are you being such a--""What?" His voice dropped low. "I'm being what?"Infuriating. Stubborn. Thick-skulled. Freaking sexy.”

“His eyes were burning a liquid silver and his arm tightened around me. "I would never give up on you, Alex. Never.""Then why are you being such a—""What?" his voice dropped low. "I'm being what?"Infuriating. Stubborn. Thick-skulled. Freaking sexy. "Good gods, can we stop arguing and just, I don't know, make out?”