“She dreams of him that has forgot her love;You dote on her that cares not for your love.'Tis pity love should be so contrary;And thinking of it makes me cry 'alas!”

“But only people you care about can hurt you. That doesn't mean I love her. Hate is not the opposite of love; not caring is. And as long as I hate her, I still care about her, and she has the power to hurt me. To make me hate myself.”

“Was that pity? I think it was. No wonder, I even pity myself. Will the pity make her love me? Make her take me home with her and look after me like the plant? Fucking bastard smug plant.”

“Love. It has always seemed to me that love is a combination of lust and pity. (...) I've got to have some feelings of pity for a girl to love her. She's got to have a fragile quality of some sort.”

“Her whole life she always pictured falling in love being full of nervous emotion, peaks of romance, and the excitement of wondering if he loved her as much as she loved him. But maybe love was simpler. Maybe true love was finding someone you could talk to with ease, whose heart cared for the same things, and whose dreams could meld with your own.”

“If you make a girl laugh, she likes you. But if you make her cry, she loves you.”