True love comes quietly, without banners or flashing lights. If you hear bells, get your ears checked.

Quiet heroism or youthful idealism, or both? What do we know? That life without heroism and idealism is not worth living - or that either can be fatal?

Sometimes I ask myself what would I be if Jenny were alive. And then I answer : I would also be alive." - Oliver.

There was a brief silence. I think I heard snow falling.

But what does he do to qualify as a sonovabitch?” Jenny asked. “Make me”, I replied. “Beg pardon?” “Make me”, I repeated. Her eyes widened like saucers. “You mean like incest?” she asked. “Don’t give me your family problems, Jen. I have enough of my own.” “Like what, Oliver?” she asked, “like just what is it he makes you do?” “The ‘right things’”, I said. “What’s wrong with the ‘right things’?” she asked, delighting in the apparent paradox.

True love comes quietly, without banners or flashing lights. If you hear bells, get your ears checked.

Love means not ever having to say you're sorry.