“Love wasn't to be measured, much less restricted, by methodology. Love wasn't a method. Love was a faculty of the highest order, imagined or unimagined. Love wasn't an activity. Love was an experience. Love was the second coming of innocence.”
“Her experience told her that suicide wasn't a thunderous, unimaginable roar. It was a seductive whisper that stole the people you loved.”
“God wasn't love, couldn't be love. Because for me, love was a corpse.”
“Mars knew that love wasn't all red-paper valentines and candy hearts. Love wasn't always joy. Love could be hot-blooded pain down to the bone. Sometimes love was despair. And sometimes love was wrong.”
“Love wasn't rational; there was no proof that it even existed outside of people's imaginings.”
“... love given without free will or truthfulness wasn't love at all.”