In Her Shoes

"I carry your heart with me. I carry it in my heart. I am never without it. Anywhere I go, you go, my dear. And whatever is done by only me... is your doing, my darling. I fear no fate... for you are my fate, my sweet. I want no world, for, beautiful... you are my world, my true. Here is the deepest secret no one knows. Here is the root of the root... and the bud of the bud... and the sky of the sky of a tree called life... which grows higher than the soul can hope... or mind can hide. It is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart. I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart."

"The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem... f... filled... with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. Even losing you... the joking voice, a gesture I love... I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like... Write it!... like disaster."

"It is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart. I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart."

"You're not going to look like this forever, you know. Eventually you'll be older, and all of the men who foot your bill now will be buying drinks for women half your age and then what will you do? Well, you'd better think of something because middle-aged tramps aren't cute, they're pathetic."

"A thong would look ridiculous on me - I wear cotton briefs. My life is about working long hours, planning trips I'll never take, and settling for love found on the pages of romance novels."

"Which one are you crying about, the predatory prick or the shit-for-brains tramp? Because neither one deserves your tears."

"Simon Stein: [reading from one of Rose's romance novels] "His fingers tangled in her curls while his tongue plundered the soft cavern of her mouth. She made no protests. Her furnace was alight. Jack drew his lips from hers and urged her forward so he could take one shirt-veiled nipple into his mouth. Kit's gasp urged him on. He licked the material until it clung to the right peak then drew the turgid flesh deep into his mouth. Kit moaned, her body spasming in response. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted." Okay, um, embarrassing as this is to admit, I'm officially turned on."

"Simon Stein: Does this mean that I'm your bitch?"