Listen to me. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what any of this means. But I know this much. It doesn’t matter. You’re not one of them. You never were. You’re not theirs. You’re mine.

The poor lady must have dropped that", she said, and undid the gate stepping out to get it. Jared put his hand on it, "No". Mrs Jeffries stared down at him. "What do you mean...no?" Jared and Mrs.Jeffries stared back at each other,neither breaking eye contact in a perfect deadlock. Then Jared smiled at her. "I mean", he said with conviction, "it's mine." "It's what?" Jared stood up, pocketing the lipstick. "I know", he responded. "Everyone tells me i'm more of a summer". Mrs.Jeffries continued to stare. Jared continued to speak. "I'm going to go now. Me... and my lipstick.

Also, you may not have noticed, but this is a cupboard." "I admit that our private office is of modest dimensions," Kami told him, "But that's the way we like it. Just because we're editors doesn't mean we need special privileges. We're not snobs.

Forest deep, silent bells There's a secret no one tells Valley quiet, water still Lynburns watching on the hill Apples red, corn gold Almost everyone grows old

Nick subjected him to a long, judgmental stare. "There's something very wrong with you," he said at last. "I thought you should know.

If you’re calling her a floozy, I’m by way of being a bit of a floozy myself.” “Oh, Jared,” said Kami, who was well aware of his romantic experience, or total lack thereof. “You are not.” “Well, I have floozy ambitions.

Oh, Alan Ryves," she said. "You're such a fantastic liar. You are the smoothest con man of them all.