She shuddered. “What is it with slobbery kissers? Are they trying to drown us in spit? I mean, Jesus, swallow every now and then.

oh... so this is what all the fuss is about.

Whenever I appeared to have won an argument, Mom would say something like, 'Even broken clocks are right twice a day.

I tilt her chin up and bend my face to hers, silently praising every woman who's had a hand in making her who she is.

How could I not love you? No one has ever affected me like you do. When you told me goodbye last month, I tried to let you go. I told myself it was the best thing for you because you wanted it. But you’re wrong, Dori. I’m good for you even if you don’t know it yet. I know because I’ve never been good for anyone before.

It isn't fair how I doubt him, and I wonder if he'll ever gather that my loss of faith extends further than I'd ever known it would, severing lines of trust and leveling my confidence like a city-flattening tornado.

That's how they say it: He loves you in his own way. Well, what about my way? What if I need for him to love me in my way?