Because even though it might burn the whole world to the ground, true love can never die.

That’s a lot of tripping, Romeo. You need to see a doctor for your balance problem.

Love is warm and deep and comfortable, just right, so you float in it peacefully without ever being scalded or frozen, like a perfect, relaxing bubble bath.

I love you the way I love the smell of old books.

Goddamn bossy men. I should start a women’s group for survivors of alpha males. There are probably millions of us worldwide, nursing bruised hopes, hearts, and uteruses.

I’m in danger here. Serious, imminent danger of being charmed senseless by a handsome artist who arouses in me the duelling urges to run away screaming or strip naked and fling myself onto his torso and cling there like a crab.

Some of the prettiest faces hide the meanest hearts, and smooth talk is no substitute for good character. The only way to judge a person is by his deeds.

Life is too short to look for perfection.

She swallows and looks down at her hands clenched in her lap. “I don’t like this story.” “Should I jump to the ending? Spoiler alert: the hero saves her.” Tabby looks over at me, her eyes shining like gems in the dark. “A real hero would teach the princess how to save herself.

Is this going to be a thing?” I ask, my arms wound around his broad shoulders. “You carrying me around like a sack of potatoes?” “It makes me feel macho bein’ able to lift all this weight – ow!