“I do know you're nothing like him. But you're still....still a lot. A lot to handle. I don't mean your junk, obviously, as we've not gotten to the fondling-bits stage yet. And I can't believe I just talked about your junk.”

“Come hell or high water, I will separate you from your man-business. I don't care how, or if you kill me. If it means me, dead, holding your junk, I'll take your junk. Got that?”

“I don't know whether it's because I don't love him, or because I can't love him for demanding something like that from me. Or because he doesn't know me for squat. But I couldn't give him my whole life. And that's what he wanted from me. He wanted everything, and I wanted him to love me for what I had already offered.”

“Um....milk. Yes, I believe I do have milk. In the fridge," Anyn replied, remarkably cordial for someone who'd just been cock-blocked by Dr. Bunsen Honeydew.”

“He had this domineering way about him that totally ketchuped my tater tots—it was like he knew what I wanted more than I did.”

“Because I think that sometimes, when you really love somebody, you don't ask them for the kind of compromise that is actually a sacrifice. The kind where one person gives up everything they have, everything they are, just so they can be with the other person. And you certainly don't expect that shit. You don't expect someone to prove their love. To love you that little bit more than you love them.”

“I swear to the gods that if you answer one more of my questions with a question, I am going to go all Tyson and bite your damned ear off...”