I know there was a time, when our country was new, when the assignment of these numbers helped organize something that was on the brink of not existing. But we are no longer that country. We are so much more now.

You’re the only person who really knows me. The only person I feel I truly know myself.” “Knowledge isn’t love,” I contradicted.

He stood and went to read my pin as I approached. “America, is it?” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “Yes, it is. And I know I’ve heard your name before, but could you remind me?

The picture of me just after I’d found out Aspen was saving up to marry me. I looked radiant, hopeful, beautiful. I looked like I was in love. And some idiot thought that love was for Prince Maxon.

For you, someone kind of quiet and mysterious-" "I'm not mysterious," I interrupted. "You are a little. And sometimes people don't know whether to interpret silence as confidence or fear. They're looking at you like you're a bug so maybe you'll feel like you are one.

I’ve met nearly every woman in this room, and I can’t think of one who would make a better friend. I’d be glad to have you stay." My relief was inexpressible. "Do you think," Maxon asked, "That I could still call you ‘my dear’?" "Not a chance." I whispered.

Ah yes, the man or the crown. I'm afraid some can't tell the difference.