“He's too much. Everything about him is too much. His emotions, his actions, his anger, his aggression.His love.”

“He's looking so deeply into my eyes that I'm surprised I haven't buckled under the intensity and I realize then, right in this moment I realize that everything about him is intense. Nothing about him is manageable or easy to compartmentalize. He's too much. Everything about him is too much. His emotions, his actions, his anger, his aggression. His love.”

“I don't know much about anything in this world but I do know how to read the book written in his eyes.”

“He won’t stop staring.“What?” I ask.“How much do you weigh?”“Wow. Is that how you talk to every girl you meet? That explains so much.”“I’m about one hundred seventy-five pounds,” he says. “Of muscle.”I stare at him. “Would you like an award?”“Well, well, well,” he says, cocking his head, the barest hint of a smile flickering across his face. “Look who’s the smart-ass now.”“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” I say.”

“He whispers, "You have no idea how much I've thought about you. How many times I've dreamt"-he takes a tight breath- "how many times I've dreamt about being this close to you." He moves to run a hand through his hair before he changes his mind. Looks down. Looks up. "God, Juliette, I'd follow you anywhere. You're the only good thing left in this world.”

“Incredible. He left me bleeding all over his living floor. What a nice little present for his son to clean up. What a nice little lesson for his son to learn. Fall in love, and you get to watch your love get shot.”

“Maybe they see something in him, see something in his face, in his features. Maybe they see what I see from this disjointed, foggy perspective. The desperation in his expression, the anguish carved into his features, the way he looks at me, like he might die if I do. And I can't help but think this is an interesting parting gift from the world.”