“I spent that whole damn day wandering around the city trying to figure out how to tell how much I loved you without sounding like an idiot.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly how I feel when I’m around you: confused, but still satisfied.' I freeze, trying to figure out how to cancel it out and replace it with something that sounds a whole lot less like sex and a candy bar ad.”

“No matter how much I try, I cant figure out how to not be adorable!”

“It’s killing me, baby,” he says, his voice much more calm and quiet. “It’s killing me because I don’t want you to go another day without knowing how I feel about you. And I’m not ready to tell you I’m in love with you, because I’m not. Not yet. But whatever this is I’m feeling—it’s so much more than just like. It’s so much more. And for the past few weeks I’ve been trying to figure it out. I’ve been trying to figure out why there isn’t some other word to describe it. I want to tell you exactly how I feel but there isn’t a single goddamned word in the entire dictionary that can describe this point between liking you and loving you, but I need that word. I need it because I need you to hear me say it.”

“It was like losing an important weight-bearing bone, and I knew I would spend the rest of my life trying to figure out how to walk the streets without it. ”

“Don’t go tarring me with that brush! I’m nothing like him. I never cheat and I never lie. The woman I end up with would be my princess. I’d treat herlike damn royalty and worship the ground she walks on. I’d tell her every day how much I love her and every night how much she means to me. Sodon’t you ever tell me I’m like all the rest Amy. I’m not!”