I hit your thigh!” “Oh, please. A man doesn’t need that long to recover from a knee to the thigh.

You are not the world, but you are everything that makes the world good.

I would be the best of us, the highest of the lows.

But if it was always a point of speculation, where one person insisted it was a certain way and another denied it, how would anyone ever hold on to the truth?

I kind of wanted someone to rearrange the stars so they spelled out his words. I needed them big and bright, and somewhere I could see then when things felt dark. I love you. And I'm so, so proud.

America Singer, you get back here." He ran in front of me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we stood, chest to chest. "Tell me," he whispered. I pinched my lips together. "Fine, then I shall have to rely on other means of communication." Without any warning, he kissed me.

Darling, you’re perfect.