I wanted more of her, & no matter what happened between us, I already knew I’d never forget anything about her. As crazy as it sounded, she was becoming part of me, & I was already dreading the fact that we wouldn’t be able to spend the day together tomorrow. Or the day after, or the day after that. Maybe, I told myself, we could beat the odds

Making love, she'd always believed, was more than simply a pleasurable act between two people. It encompassed all that a couple was supposed to share: trust & commitement, hopes & dreams, a promise to make it through whatever the future might bring. The greater the love; the greater the tragedy when it is over

All of sudden, this shooting star went by, and all I could think was that they were listening to us somehow.

I have a great wife and it's very easy to be romantic because it makes her happy and then my life is so much better when she's happy.

I want you to be.... happy.

All he knew was that they fit somehow, and that he felt as if he spent most of his life traveling a path that led inexorably to her.

I am nothing special, of this I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten, but I've loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough.