My first job entailed spending a summer working in a cornfield in Nebraska.

He brushed my curls back off my face. “I never pictured my life so complete. I never thought I’d have everything I want. You’re everything to me, Angel.

She already has a car.” “A Ford. That’s like Toyota’s worst enemy.

Patch smiled. “You come by your red hair naturally?” I stared at him. “I don’t have red hair.” “I hate to break it to you, but it’s red. I could light it on fire and it wouldn’t turn any redder.

You don't happen to have a thousand dollars I can borrow?" "I don't have five you can borrow. My piggy bank is officialy anorexic.

You’re crowding me. I need— room.”... What I needed were boundaries. I needed willpower. I needed to be caged up, since yet again I was proving I couldn’t be trusted in Patch’s presence. I should have been bolting for the door, and yet … I wasn’t.

Violence doesn't equal strength.