Meg! I love you! I want to marry you!" "That's weird," she said without stopping. "Only six weeks ago, you were telling me all about how Lucy broke your heart." "I was wrong. Lucy broke my brain.

Losing isn't as bad as not fighting at all.

Take it off first, soldier." He looked at her suspiciously. "Take what off?" "Your clothes. Entertain the troops." "My clothes?" He frowned. "I was sort of thinking you might want to do that for me." She shook her head and leaned back on one elbow, giving him her witchiest, bitchiest smile. "Strip." "Now, listen here, Francie--" Lifting a languid hand, she once again pointed toward the center of the room. "Do it real slow, good-looking," she purred. "I want to enjoy every minute.

Okay, so I'll admit I'm curious. Big deal. We both know what that leads to. Dead cat.

She's as plastic as you are. If you ever have kids, they'll come out of the birth canal with Fisher-Price stamped on their butts.

Be quiet, or I swear to God I'll take you right here

Sugar Beth detected the movement and shot him a look that challenged not only his manhood but also his very right to exist on the planet.