“I feel warm and reassured," I whispered. "He's like Santa.”

“I liked the feeling of love,' [Jonas] confessed. He glanced nervously at the speaker on the wall, reassuring himself that no one was listening. 'I wish we still had that,' he whispered. 'Of course,' he added quickly, 'I do understand that it wouldn't work very well. And that it's much better to be organized the way we are now. I can see that it was a dangerous way to live.'...'Still,' he said slowly, almost to himself, 'I did like the light they made. And the warmth.”

“I’ll not tire until I’ve claimed your heart,” he whispered into my hair. “And that is both a promise and a threat.” I could feel his warm breath against my cheek as he spoke.”

“So you don't really believe in love?" I whispered. How could this be? I was crushed. It was like finding out the truth about Santa Claus and the tooth fairy and the Easter bunny in one sitting.”

“You smell good," he whispered into my neck. He was warm against me. Instinctively, I arched back into him and smiled. "Really?" "Mmm-hmm. Delicious. Like bacon.”

“Is this what love feels like?" he whispered to her. "I don't like it, my Beth. It hurts too much.”