“I looked at you... and saw your goodness, your hope, and your faith. Those are what make you beautiful. So, so beautiful.So it was't my hair?”

“What, are you doing? Aside from getting your sandwich cold.""I’m making a snow angel. Don’t you know what that is?""Yes, I know. But why? You must be freezing.""Not so much, actually. My face is a little, I guess.”

“I stood on the precipice of something that would change my life. For the last week, Iʹd done a very good job of detaching myself from anything romantic with Dimitri. And yet . . . had I? What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someoneʹs jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?”

“What?" I asked uneasily. "Why are you looking at me like that?"He shook his head, the smile rueful now. "Because sometimes, a person can get so caught up in the details that they miss the whole. It's not just the dress or the hair. It's YOU. You're beautiful. So beautiful, it hurts me.”

“If I could dream, I know I'd dream about you.I'd dream about the way you smell and how your dark hair feels like silk between my fingers. I'd dream about the smoothness of your skin and the fierceness of your lips when we kiss. Without dreams,I have to be content with my own imagination—which is almost as good. I can picture all those things perfectly.”

“What was love, really? Flowers, chocolate, and poetry? Or was it something else? Was it being able to finish someone's jokes? Was it having absolute faith that someone was there at your back? Was it knowing someone so well that they instantly understood why you did the things you did—and shared those same beliefs?”

“My god, Sage. Your eyes. How have I never noticed them? When you stand in the light. They're amazing... like molten gold. I could paint those... They're beautiful. You're beautiful.”