“Abby_Donovan: Heathcliff was a misogynistic asshole.MarkBaynard: Could you explain that to my Lit 101 class? I hate to see all those impressionable young females swoowing over him like he's Edward Cullen.Abby_Donovan: I've always been Team Jacob myself. And Team Mr Rochester.”

“Abby_Donovan: I bet you were one of those uber-cool teachers like Mr.Chip, weren't you?MarkBaynard: I was more like Mr.Kotter or that guy from GLEE who looks like the love child of Orlando Bloom & Justin Timberlake.Abby_Donovan: Your female students were probably writing "I love you" on their eyelids and listening to "Don't Stand So Close to Me" on their Walkmans.[...]Abby_Donovan: Goodnight Mr.SchuesterMarkBaynard: Goodnight Miss PillsburyAbby_Donovan: Goodnight PuckMarkBaynard: Goodnight RachelAbby_Donovan: Goodnight KurtMarkBaynard: Goodnight QuinnAbby_Donovan: Goodnight FinnMarkBaynard: Goodnight Sue Sylvester, you heartless but oddly sexy beastAbby_Donovan: Goodnight ArtieMarkBaynard: Goodnight Tweetheart...”

“MarkBaynard: If you start hanging out over here, won't your Facebook Friends miss you?Abby_Donovan: Those people weren't my friends. If they had been, they wouldn't have sent me all those annoying quizzes.MarkBaynard: A true friend never asks you to feed their imaginary fish. Or fertilize their imaginary crops.Abby_Donovan: Although with a little coaxing, I might be persuaded to take home your imaginary kitten. So how is Twitter different from Facebook?MarkBaynard: Twitter is the perpetual cocktail party where everyone is talking at once but nobody is saying anything.”

“He sensed that his bride was only a step away from bolting. Fiona's words came back to him — I've yet to meet a lass who could resist a strappin' fellow with a babe in his arms.In an effort to erase her stricken expression, he thrust his burden into her arms. "My children and I would like to welcome you to Elsinore, my lady."She eased back the blanket, then stood gazing down at the feathery perfection of the babe's head.Her eyes were as cool as the ash from yesterday's fire. "No, thank you," she finally said, handing it back to him. "I've already eaten.”

“He had been willing to hold on to hope even when it looked like all hope was lost. She owed him no less.”

“Since you're probably going to die, you might as well know- I love you nearly as much as I hate you."His eyes fluttured just once as he murmured, "Me too.”

“Stand and yield," she called out, her voice far steadier than her hands. "For I cannot allow you to pass." Bannor's crooked grin was somehow more intimidating than a snarl. 'Twould have been far easier to despise him if he'd been cursed with horns and a tail instead of twinkling blue eyes and a dimple in his jaw. "What would you have me yield, my lady? My sword or my heart?"-willow&bannor-”