“That's like saying Firefly's Mal was just Han Solo. He wasn't.”

“You’re practically begging for it, aren’t you?” he murmured.“No.”His chuckle rasped over her senses. “I like begging, Reagan.”“I’m not going to beg.”He was silent for a moment, his fingers still playing, and she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing. Then he said softly, “Damn.”

“I don't know what will happen with us," he said softly. "I can't predict the future. If things don't work out between us, yeah, there's a chance you'll hate my guts. To me, losing you as a friend is a pretty big risk. Do you think I'd take that big a risk for a few nights of sex?" He shook his head. "I was having freakin' nightmares about you with those other guys. What you were doing." He buried his face in her hair. "Kerri, I don't want you to see other guys. Just me.”

“Her entire being was like a wonderful yet horrible dream he wasn’t sure he could or would want to wake up from.”

“When you’re the father of a little boy, which involves many joys, you do have one rationalization in your back pocket that is ready to be used roughly half of the time – that your little boy has the disadvantage of not being a girl. Girls just seem to be ahead of the game in so many ways when they are little; they are not as apt to tumble spontaneously off stools as boys are. We saw this clearly illustrated the first day we took Dean to nursery school: the little girls took off their coats and hung them up, neatly, and then went to help all the little boys, whose coats were half off, or still zippered and hopelessly tangled around their midsections, or attached to one hand and dragging along the floor.”

“Art is art. You can take it or leave it. Liking it or not liking it does not make you a better person, and who you like or dislike results in the same thing.”

“Just how deep do you believe? Can you get up off your knees?”