When I propose, angel, trust me, you’ll know it.

I can let you in, Eva. I’m trying. But your first response when I screw up is to run away. You do it every time and I can’t stand feeling like any moment I’m going to do or say something wrong and you’re going to bolt.

His smile was like lightning in the darkness, blinding and beautiful and mysterious, and I wanted him so badly it was physically painful.

Oh, I’ll fight you,” she promised, her eyes clear of shadows. “That’s the way I roll.

I loved the way he kissed me, as if he had to, as if he'd go crazy if he didn't and had nearly waited too long.

The only way I'm keeping my hands off her is if I'm dead. Find another way to fix us.

I'd rather argue with you, angel, then laugh with anyone else.