Then it's settled," I said. "We'll do a dream conference call." That love and rapture faltered. "Wait. How is it settled? How did we go from me declaring my love for you to me being okay with a dream?" "It's Adrian Ivashkov logic. Don't try to understand it. Just roll with it.

Sage," he said. "What are you wearing?" I sighed and stared down at the dress. "I know. It's red. Don't start. I'm tired of hearing about it." "Funny," he said. "I don't think I could ever get tired of looking at it.

You can't save everyone, though God knows you try.

How was it that Adrian Ivashkov, who never seemed to take anything seriously was the only one among these "responsible" people who paid attention to such small details? How was he the only one to really understand the magnitude of what I was feeling?

Sydney had been horrified to discover my home library consisted of a bartending dictionary and an old copy of Esquire, and at her pleading, I'd promised to read something more substantial. I was trying to think deep thoughts as I read Gatsby, but mostly I wanted to throw some parties.

People get too caught up in what they don't have and get bogged down as a result. There's joy in the present. It's important to just make the most of the these moments we have. Keep an eye on the future, but don't forget to enjoy NOW.

Dmitri was in my arms.