Patch’s eyes were black orbs. Taking in everything and giving away nothing.

His were the kind of eyes that held secrets. The kind that lied without flinching. The kind that once you looked into them, it was hard to break away.

You find the wrong boy, you ask for trouble. You find the right boy, you find love.

This was it. Together. Forever. As we left it all behind, the sun warmed my back, lighting the way before us. I knew of no better omen.

Being nice? He’s being horny.

I shouldn't have been looking at lingerie. It naturally made me think about sexy things. Like kissing. Like Patch.

Nora: What are you planning? Patch: I wouldn't call this planning. I'd call this throwing a Hail Mary with seconds left on the clock.