“Along with the punctuality gene, the liar gene had skipped out on me as well. I was officially the world's worst liar. I could've won and award for it. Whenever I tried to mimic a serious expression, I ended up looking like I was half-retarded”

“So, you really think…” Dylan’s voice trailed off as soon as he saw me. His eyes moved up and down my entire body, staring at me like I was a meal. “Wow. You look… great.”

“I was the only creature with a vagina who would duck if someone ever tried to hand me a baby. I was too selfish to be responsible for someone else's life.”

“I want to be with someone who understand me, who at least cares enough about me to try to understand.”

“Do you really like Quincy or are you just saying that?" I asked.Dylan held up his index finger and finished swallowing his toast. He looked alarmed by my question. "Quincy is fine. Why would I mind Quincy?""I don't know. I mean, don't you have a preference as to where we live?"Dylan shook his head. "Not really. As long as I'm living with you, I could care less. I'd live in a closet with you for Christ's sake.”

“So, Buckley, huh?" he asked, pulling away from me. "You think he deserves that much credit?""Well, he did bring us together and all," I said."Oh, is that what brought us together?" His brown crinkled together. "I thought it was that ten minutes of unprotected passion in a cheap Manhattan hotel room.""I'd give it six at most.”

“I hated the term "heartbroken." It was such an understatement. "Broken" typically implied you were talking about something you could put back together. Or replace. My heart didn't feel like it was broken. It felt like it had been tossed into the blender and liquidized at 180 MPH.”