She looks up at me with those vulnerable eyes. “What if it means something?” She asks. “What if it does?” “Promise me it won’t mean anything.” I lean my head back on the couch. “It won’t mean anythin’.” Aren’t I supposed to be the guy in this scenario, laying down the no-commitment rules? “And no tongue,” she adds. “Mi vida, if I kiss you, I guarantee there’s gonna be tongue.

If you sprinkle when you tinkle please be neat and wipe the seat.

There's a thin line between love and hate. Maybe you're confusing your emotions.

The end of one thing is just the beginning of another.

Something is happening. I sense a change in the wind…a mutual understanding of each other. I haven’t felt this way in forever.

Being brave is not as easy as it looks.

You're where I want to be.