I'm not sick, Deuce. You don't know your own charm." My charm? I hadn't been aware I had any. It must be the dress, I thought.
He’s worth fighting for, but I won’t change who I am for any man. No more than he should alter himself to suit me.
Don’t let them see you weak.
Just . . . love me, and let tomorrow look after itself.
His reply offers infinite solace in a single word. Always.
My skill didn't lie in planning battles, only in fighting them.