“Tell her we don’t bite.” “I don’t lie to my friends.”

“Tell me Zach.” I don’t know if it was the wind or the adrenaline, but I shivered. “And don’t lie to me.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t wonder, don’t th—” “I fucking don’t!” He grabbed her upper arms, held her in place, the raw fury in his voice a wild thing. “I made my choice, and I chose you. Don’t you do this. Don’t you destroy us.”

“Now, here’s a philosophical dilemma for a vicar … is it a lie if you don’t know you’re lying? Is it a lie if you’re lying to yourself?”“Is it a sin if I tell my cousin to bugger off?”

“We are your friends. It is the law of friendship that you tell us things you don’t want to tell us.”

“If you don’t find the right set of eyes to see through your bull, you will always be surrounded by friends that will tell you white lies because they like your company and don’t want to ruin the evening.”