“Maybe love isn't just a bouquet of roses once in a whole. Maybe it's just sticking it out, when it's hard, when you're mad, when you're tired.”
“I don't want to lose you, I love you, and…and that's all I've got.”
As speeches went, it wasn't great. As feelings went…different story.”
“But if someone calls me ‘poor thing’ one more time, I may go postal and kill everyone around me. Except children and dogs. And old people. And you. And Connor. Fine, I won't kill anyone. But it's driving me crazy.”
“Love came when you weren't looking, except in the case of millions who found mates on Match.com, but, hey. It sounded good.”
“The love of your life won't be the man you end up with, and you'll always compare the two.”
“Nina, I really would like to go spend some time with Faith,” he said bluntly.
“To make me jealous?”
“No. Because she's…”
“Sweet?” Nina said, pulling a face and batting her eyelashes
“Mine.”
“Maybe love isn’t just
a bouquet of roses once in a while. Maybe it’s just sticking it out, when it’s hard, when you’re mad, when
you’re tired.”
“What’s more appealing than a guy who gets down on his knees and lets your dog lick his face?”
“Well, you always remember people who hurt your feelings.”
“Men never had to deal with this, Faith thought. Men didn’t hide in bathrooms and wrestle microfiber and pantyhose. Totally not fair. Men had it easy. Did men get bikini waxed and wear uncomfortable underwear? No, they did not. Faith would bet her life that a man had invented thongs. Men sucked.”
“Maybe love isn't just a bouquest of roses once in a while. Maybe it's just sticking it out, when it's hard, when you're mad, when you're tired.”
“Then she slammed the door. Opened it and slammed it again, just in case he missed the point.”
“Maybe love isn't just a bouquet of roses once in a while. Maybe it's just sticking it out when it's hard, when you're mad, when you're tired.”
“Get out of bed. Go to classes. Try to be normal, and pretty soon all that grief you carry...it gets easier.”
“The whole bringing sexy back...you know that song? By that cute boy?”
“Yeah, I know it,” Faith said grimly.
“Who is he again?”
“Justin Timberlake.”
“Right. “Bring Sexy Back” or something. Well, I didn’t know sexy was gone. Now Carl wants me to be all creative. You know what he brought back from Costco last week? Eight cans of whipped cream, Faith. Eight.”
“That’s a lot,” Faith said. Time to swear off dairy.
“And it’s having the opposite effect. Right? Like, the storm of love I used to have has dried to a mist, because all of a sudden, plain old marital brevity isn’t good enough. Oh, and the other day, Abby walked in on us, and she’s not speaking to me at the moment. Last week, Faith, I had a mammogram, you know?”
Faith looked up sharply. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure! But I was looking forward to it! Like, that was my special alone time, just me and the boob squisher. I didn’t have to talk dirty to Carl or wear Vulcan ears—”
“Oh, boy.”
“Easy, beauty,” He presses his mouth to the tears that have slipped from the corners of my eyes and down my temples. His breath rasps against my ear. “Come first, and then I’ll fuck you.”
“Soldier and civilian, they died in their tens of thousands because death had been concocted for them, morality hitched like a halter round the warhorse so that we could talk about 'target-rich environments' and 'collateral damage' - that most infantile of attempts to shake off the crime of killing - and report the victory parades, the tearing down of statues and the importance of peace.
Governments like it that way. They want their people to see war as a drama of opposites, good and evil, 'them' and 'us', victory or defeat. But war is primarily not about victory or defeat but about death and the infliction of death. It represents a total failure of the human spirit.”
“[...] from what I'd been able to ascertain online, the Swiss were a reassuringly practical people. They had a long, proud history of staying out of wars, preferring to devote themselves to more constructive endeavours like science, secure banking and building extremely accurate clocks.”
“She took a deep breath and forgot to exhale. She wondered what it would be like if she licked him up one side and down the other.
"What are you thinking?"
She suddenly felt kind of hot and dizzy and accidentally let Layla out.
"That I want to lick your tattoo," she whispered.”
“When you are deep in misery, you reach out to those who can help, people who can understand.”
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