So are you bisexual?” I had asked, and Todd had laughed at my insistence on label. “I guess I'm bipossible,” he had said.

Then he raised her enough to whisper in her ear, and while his voice was tender, his words were savage. "You're my woman, and no man or God or ghost will ever take you from me.

Win told me that one isn’t improved by being at the top of the mountain, one is improved by the climb.

I’ve lost someone, too. And there were no rules for how to deal with the death of someone you loved. You had to accept that the loss would always stay with you, like a reminder note pinned to the inside of your jacket. But there were still opportunities for happiness. Even joy.

I suppose now I'm obliged to wish you happiness in your new life. Although happiness in the absence of indoor plumbing is a debatable concept.

Dear Miss Independent, I've decided that of all the women I've ever known, you are the only one I will ever love more than hunting, fishing, football, and power tools. You may not know this, but the other time I asked you to marry me, the night I put the crib together, I meant it. Even though I knew you weren't ready. God, I hope you're ready now. Marry me, Ella. Because no matter where you go or what you do, I'll love you every day for the rest of my life. —Jack

I love you enough for the both of us. And there must be something about me worth loving. If you would just try.