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“Do you know what your problem is?” she says. “You ate all my Lucky Charms and my peanut butter Cap’n Crunch?” “You have irrational expectations of women after reading all those romance novels.”
“I loved Titanic.” I know, it’s a movie, but it’s the best I’ve got. “Not a romance.” There’s a steel belief behind his words that’s making my nipples pucker harder. “It was a beautiful love story.” “That movie sucked. No happily ever after, even though Jack would’ve fit on that damn door and could’ve lived. It’s like Nicholas Sparks wrote the damn thing. Therefore, not a romance.”
I knew you had it in you, beautiful girl. You’re strong. You’re smart. No one can ever take that away.
failing at one thing doesn’t mean you didn’t do a good job. It means you failed one thing.

