“Crotch biting menace:I have my mouth in close proximity to your genitals.Oh thou man who talks to my mistress over coffee.Do not irk or trifle with me! I possess but one tooth, oh, yes, for the rest were buried long ago in the flesh of sinners.Behold my jaws, upper and lower in righteous, symmetrical poverty.Move not, man of clocks, and heed my mistress, for she cherishes me, even in my foul old age.”

“Stop. That was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened." "No?""No." "I could offer you more.” "What?” "Power. Access. Rewards. You’d need be available only to me.” "Are you asking me to be your mistress?” "Yes.” "Oh, my God.” "Is that a yes?” "No, Ethan, Jesus. Definitely not.”

“Music is my mistress, and she plays second fiddle to no one.”

“You probably even dream about me.” His gaze lowered to my mouth. I felt my lips part. “I bet you even write my name in your notebooks, over and over again, with a little heart drawn around it.”

“I could blame my lack of a happy ending on Edward all day long but the truth was that my own dissatisfaction with my life wasn't anybody's fault but mine. I'd been looking for a man to sweep me off my feet when I should have been looking for one who willing to pick up the pieces. Not some fictional hero, but a real flesh-and-blood man. Someone who would love me for the long haul.”

“Ah, are you digging on my grave,My loved one? -- planting rue?"-- "No: yesterday he went to wedOne of the brightest wealth has bred.'It cannot hurt her now,' he said,'That I should not be true.'""Then who is digging on my grave,My nearest dearest kin?"-- "Ah, no: they sit and think, 'What use!What good will planting flowers produce?No tendance of her mound can looseHer spirit from Death's gin.'""But someone digs upon my grave?My enemy? -- prodding sly?"-- "Nay: when she heard you had passed the GateThat shuts on all flesh soon or late,She thought you no more worth her hate,And cares not where you lie."Then, who is digging on my grave?Say -- since I have not guessed!"-- "O it is I, my mistress dear,Your little dog, who still lives near,And much I hope my movements hereHave not disturbed your rest?""Ah yes! You dig upon my grave...Why flashed it not to meThat one true heart was left behind!What feeling do we ever findTo equal among human kindA dog's fidelity!""Mistress, I dug upon your graveTo bury a bone, in caseI should be hungry near this spotWhen passing on my daily trot.I am sorry, but I quite forgotIt was your resting place.”