“I love you. You are the object of my affection and the object of my sentence.”

“Love is an optical illusion that makes you believe the object of your affection is the most beautiful person in the world.”

“To this crib I always took my doll; human beigns must love something, and, in the dearth of worthier objects of affection, I contrived to find a pleasure in loving and cherishing a faded graven image, shabby as a miniature scarecrow”

“Where are you, my little object of art? I am here to collect you.”

“Listen to them again: ‘I love you.’ Subject, verb, object: the unadorned, impregnable sentence. The subject is a short word, implying the self-effacement of the lover. The verb is longer but unambiguous, a demonstrative moment as the tongue flicks anxiously away from the palate to release the vowel. The object, like the subject, has no consonants, and is attained by pushing the lips forward as if for a kiss. ‘I love you.’ How serious, how weighted, how freighted it sounds.”

“You are all at once the subject, object, predicate, preposition, and period of my thoughts.”