Patch's eyes were slate black, darker than a million secrets stacked on top of each other. He dropped his gaze to the ring in his hand, turning it over slowly. "Swear you'll never stop loving me," I whispered. Ever so slightly, he nodded.

Since the dawn of time, women have been attracted to mates with strong survival skills—like intelligence and physical prowess— because men with these qualities are more likely to bring home dinner at the end of the day.” He stuck his thumbs in the air and grinned. “Dinner equals survival, team

We need a ride. We're stranded." "We still have two legs, leftie and rightie. Mine are in the mood for exercise. They feel like a nice long walk--ARE YOU CRAZY?" she shrieked. I was standing with the tip of the beach umbrella aimed at the driver's-side window. "What?" I said. "We have to get in.

I don't have 'five' you can borrow. My piggy bank is officially anorexic.

You're scared of what you can't control

I couldn't stand here, hanging on, when the very thing I held disappeared more with each passing day.

Don’t panic, I thought. But already my breathing was faster, shallower. “You mean you can feel happy or sad or—” “Desire.” A barely-there smile.