You know what it is you smell on him, Haven? Testosterone. It's leaking out of his pores.

One can't help but marvel at the variety of ways that women had devised to make us look like flaming idiots.

It's me, love," he said softly. "Everything's all right." Daisy managed to whisper through dry lips. "If you're a ghost...I hope you haunt me forever." Matthew sat on the floor and reached for her cold hands. "Would a ghost use the door?" he asked gently, bringing her fingers to his scratched, battered face.

...it was better to answer, no matter how ineptly, thank to withhold a reply. Because sometimes silence could wound someone nearly as badly as a bullet.

If only I could visit you as a foreigner goes into a new country, learn the language of you, wander past all borders into every private and secret place, I would stay forever. I would become a citizen of you.

He liked cheap women, fast cars, late nights, and hard liquor, especially all together. In Jack's view, you are obliged to sin on Saturday night so you'd have something to atone for Sunday morning. Otherwise, you'd be putting the preacher out of business.

Sweet,” he whispered, and stole a kiss from her lips. “Sweet… let me stay with you a little longer.” -Jack to Amanda