“Considering I pretty much melted from a single peck on the cheek, I'm worried that a real kiss would turn me into a quivering puddle of goo. But I'm willing to take the chance.”

“It’s always described as melting, and I finally understood why. I thought my body was turning to liquid. I could feel my bones giving way, threatening to dissolve and leave me one big puddle of goo.”

“I turned to kiss his fingertips. He stared into my eyes again, those sex sapphires doing their voodoo that made me a puddle of voodoo goo. For him to woo. See what he did to me?”

“Don't pretend", I say Breathily. "You know I'm not. I'm not ugly, but I am certainly not pretty." "Fine. You're not pretty. So?" He kisses my cheek. "I like how you look. You're deadly smart. You're brave.”

“If by some bizarre chance there turns out to be a god [...], I'm willing to bet he's an atheist too.”

“I'm not worried about the future as much as I'm worried about the past. About keeping my memories real and not sacrificing them to match the present.”