“Did I ever tell you that Alex loves you so much he got your name tattooed all over his body? Hell, he even got your name branded into the back of his neck.""They say 'LB,' Carlos. The initials for Latino Blood.""No, no, no. You've got it all wrong. He wants everyone to think that, but in reality it means Lover of Brittany. LB, get it?”

“But he grins, so brilliantly, not even paying attention. “I love it when you say my name,” he says. “I don’t even know why.” “Warner isn't your name,” I point out. “Your name is *****.” His smile is wide, so wide. “God, I love that.”“Your name?”“Only when you say it.”“*****? Or Warner?”His eyes close. He tilts his head back against the wall. Dimples.”

“So you've got no name?" I asked. "They couldn't think of one ugly enough?"The creature snarled, stepping over the unconscious policeman."Set animal is too hard to say," I decided. "I'll call you Leroy."Apparently, Leroy didn't like his name. He lunged.”

“You were the best birthday present I ever got.""Thank you.""I wanted to give you something back, but I've got to warn you that it's not half as good as my present. Even so, you have to keep it.""All right."He draped the pink bow around his neck and grinned. "Happy birthday, Rosebud.”

“Dude, you got your girl’s name on your wrist? What in the hell possessed you to do that?” Brad said.Travis proudly turned over his hand to reveal my name. “I’m crazy about her,” he said, looking down at me with soft eyes.”

“Then the old man got to cussing, and cussed everything and everybody he could think of, and then cussed them all over again to make sure he hadn't skipped any, and after that he polished off with a kind of a general cuss all round, including a considerable parcel of people which he didn't know the names of, and so called them what's-his-name, when he got to them, and went right along with his cussing.”