I miss you.…” He stroked the indentation of the gown where her waist would have been—should have been. “I miss you so much.

Fine. If I can't have you, then you do the taking. Have all of me, part of me, a small piece, whatever you want. Just please, have something.

All right, then, her first rule for the rest of her days: no more looking outside for definitions. She might not have any clue who she was, but better to be lost and searching than shoved into a social box by someone else.

And I left the aspirin next to the phone with a tall glass of water. Figured you weren’t going to be able to make it to the coffeepot. Take three, turn your ringer off, and sleep. If anything exciting happens, I’ll come and get you.” “I love you, honey.” “So buy me a mink and a nice pair of earrings for our anniversary.” “You got it.

Is he Catholic?" her grandmother asked on the way out. He's a drug dealer -- so if he is religious, he's got incredible powers of reconciliation. "He looks like a good boy," her vovo said over her shoulder. "A good Catholic boy." And that was that -- for now.

I'll call you," Manny said. "You do that, my man. You frickin' do that." -Manny to V

Because I was, and I remain, utterly and completely and totally…in love with you.