“I think that must be a lot like how God has it--not to sound as if I think I'm anything like God, mind you. But the whole idea--sitting up there behind glass you can't be seen through. The person down below looks up and it's just a reflection of themselves, a mirror is what they see. But behind the glass, somebody who loves you more than anything is watching, and is hoping for the best for you, and cheering you on, and is loving you even when you are doing something you shouldn't be.”

“I was thinking about attraction. I have this theory on it. On love." She wouldn't look at me.I swallowed, but managed, "This ought to be good."Nuala shot me a hard look. "Shut up. I don't think love has anything to do with how the other person is. I mean, maybe a little. I think what really matters is you yourself. Like, you know, let's say you lo- really liked a self-involved ass. That doesn't matter. What matters is how that ass makes you feel. If you feel like the best person in the world when you're with him, that's what makes you like him. It really isn't about how nice a person he is at all."I ran my tongue over my bottom lip. "I like it. It's like the selfish person's guide to love. It's not you, baby, it's me I'm in love with.”

“We heard the Sermon on the Mount and I knew it was too complex, It didn't amount to anything more than what the broken glass reflects. When you bite off more than you can chew you pay the penalty, Somebody's got to tell the tale, I guess it must be up to me. –Bob Dylan, “Up To Me”

“I know you love me. I love you, I always will, but things can't hold like this. They have to break. You say you don't mind, that you will wait for me, but I think that you do mind, and you should. Because we've done too much waiting in our lives, Xander. Don't wait for me anymore. I hope for love for you.I hope for this more than anything else, maybe even more than my own happiness. And in a way, perhaps that means I love Xander best of all.”

“Nuala shot me a hard look. "Shut up. I don't think love has anything to do with how the other person is. I mean, maybe a little. I think what really matters is you yourself. Like, you know, let's say you lo- really liked a self-involved ass. That doesn't matter. What matters is how that ass makes you feel. If you feel like the best person in the world when you're with him, that's what makes you like him. It really isn't about how nice of a person he is at all.”

“Will, you look like hell!" I yelled through the glass door."I can't say how you look," he said. "But if you look like you sound, you look like a jerk. Please help me.”