Intimacy doesn't have all that much to do with backseats of cars. Real intimacy is brushing your teeth together.

No one actually needs another person or another person's love to survive. Love is when we have irrationally convinced ourselves that we do.

The only love she inspires is the canine kind.

What are you reading?" Owen asks. "Charlotte's Web," Liz says. "It's really sad. One of the main characters just died." "You ought to read the book from end to beginning," Owen jokes. "That way, no one dies, and it's always a happy ending.

It's sad when you think about it, but also kind of beautiful.

You forget all of it anyway. . . You forget who was cool and who was not, who was pretty, smart, athletic, and not. . . You forget all of them. Even the ones you said you loved, and even the ones you actually did. They’re the last to go. And then once you’ve forgotten enough, you love someone else.

But then again maybe "I will" is nicer. It has a future in it.