“When she says, 'How can you ask if I love you? Look at all I've done with you. What else would you call it?'That kind of love-the kind you realize you already have by the life you've created together-that's the kind that lasts.”

“What's love? Something that lasts a week or a month and that's all you can except? Or is it just that some loves have a short shelf life? You know, like yogurt: after a week or two they go bad.And how do you recognize the other kind of love, the kind that isn't like yogurt? The kind that's more like... I don't know, like peanut butter, that lasts forever and always tastes good?”

“You don't say, 'I've done it!' You come, with a kind of horrible desperation, to realize that this will do.”

“It's not that kind of love. It's the real kind. The unconditional kind. The nonjudgemental kind. Not the physical kind. I love you as a fellow soul who inhabits this earth. I love you as a fellow immortal. I love you because I finally understand what made you the way you are. And if I could change it, I would. But I can't—so I choose to love you instead. And my hope is that my acceptance of you will spur you to do something good too, but if not—" I shrug. "At least I can say I tried.”

“Watch it." he said at last. "I can make your life miserable." I gave him an icy smile. "You already have, and that's why i've got the advantage. You've done your worst but you haven't seen what i can do yet.”

“When you love a child, you forgive her before she can even ask. Basically you've already forgiven her for things she hasn't even done yet.”