Okay, that was, I have to say, about the cheesiest thing I ever heard in my life, I say to Angela as we're milling around afterward. We hug, so Billy can take our picture. I mean, seriously. Just be? You should write ads for Nike.

As he crept down the stairs, it occurred to him that as a weasel, she could've saved herself and left him to die. Again.
But when the time came, she didn't. Again.

We're going to live tomorrow, and for long after. We'll have years and years to fight about everything you want to fight about.
He made it sound like it was a desirable thing.
I hope so, Jane said. I've been making a list.
I don't doubt it. What shall we fight about first?

Before, I was what you might call happy. After, it was like happy people became the enemy. Happy people were weak. They were clueless. They did stupid things like die on you.

This is the part where my life becomes all apocalyptic, I think.

Mr. Rochester grunted. Miss Eyre, listen to me. I believe there is a string below your rib, and it stretches across class and age to me, and it is attached beneath my rib. And if you find another suitable position, and leave me, you will pull it out. And I will bleed.

Note to self: buy some nunchucks or something.

I sneaked out to his house a couple times in the middle of the night to watch over him while he slept, just in case, I don't know, his comic book collection decided to spontaneously combust. This was dumb and admittedly creepy in an Edward Cullen kind of way.

Oh sometimes it had taken her hours or days to recover from a particularly emotional book.

Time passes. That's the rule. No matter what happens, no matter how much it might feel like everything in your life has been frozen around one particular moment, time marches on.

My heart knows right where to go.

As a serf, poor Christian has already been killed several times in our class. Aside from dying of the Black Plague on the first day, he's starved to death, had his hands cut off for stealing a loaf of bread, and been run down by his master's horse just for kicks. He's like Christian the fifth now.

Another silence for the record books. Then he sighs.

I know. It's crazy. I feel like -- He stops himself. He suddenly looks so miserable that my heart aches for him.

I hate my life.

I did get so wigged out that I sneaked out to his house a couple times in the middle of the night to watch over him while he slept, just in case, I don't know, his comic book collection decided to spontaneously combust. This was dumb and admittedly creepy in an Edward Cullen kind of way, but it was the only thing I could think to do.

So I'm in love. That crazy, forget to eat, float around in a daze, talk on the phone all night and bounce out of bed every morning hoping to see him kind of love.

I can't believe you're old enough to have your purpose, Mom says with a sigh. Makes me feel old.
You are old.

This is the part where I kiss you.

Very funny, my lady. And that reminds me -- -he pointed a finger at her -- -no horse jokes.
He was making it too easy. Ah, my lord, why the long face?
That's it!

Grace Poole shrugged. If you're sure. I can whip something up in the cauldron.

Do not eat anything she whips up in a cauldron, Helen whispered.

He thought maybe the purest form of love is letting me go.