There are many different types of kisses. There's a passionate kiss of farewell - like the kind Rhett gave Scarlett when he went off to war. The kiss of I-can't-really-be-with-you-but-I-want-to-be - like with Superman and Lois Lane. There's the first kiss - one that is gentle and hesitant, warm and vulnerable. And then there's the kiss of possession - which was how Ren kissed me now.

The fact is...I'm in love with you, and I have been for some time.

Love is not a consequence. Love is not a choice. Love is a thirst. A need as vital to the soul as water is to the body. Love is a precious draught that not only soothes a parched throat, but it vitalizes a man. It fortifies him enough that he is willing to slay dragons for the woman who offers it. Take that draught of love from me and I will shrivel to dust. To take it from a man dying of thirst and give it to another whilst he watches is a cruelty I never thought you capable of.

Okay. So, apparently I find burly Indian men attractive. What's wrong with that?

We throw away what we could have been and waste our opportunities. We each have a purpose, a destiny, and to realize it, we must reach beyond what we think we are capable of.

A young man who doesn't have the foresight to seek out the girl he wants to be with and actively pursue her, doesn't deserve her.

Regrets are only felt by those who do not understand life's purpose.