I Pulled Out Box After Box, Setting

I Can't Wait Until This Show Gets On The Road," He Said. "you And Me Are Going To Have So Much Fun, Rose. Picking Out Curtains, Doing Each Other's Hair, Telling Ghost Stories..." The Reference To "ghost Stories" Hit A Little Closer To Home Than I Was Comfortable With. Not That Choosing Curtains Or Brushing Christian's Hair Was Much More Appealing.

What Happened, Then? You're Stomping Through Every Puddle You Can Find And Look Like You're Going To Punch The First Person You See." "why Are You Hanging Around, Then? Aren't You Worried About Getting Hit?" "aw, You'd Never Hurt Me. My Face Is Too Pretty

What's That?" He Asked, When I Stood Beside Him Again. "halos," I Said With A Grin. "for Heavenly Creatures Like Us." "that Might Be A Stretch.

In The Real World, You Can Make Your Own Miracles.

What Was Love, Really? Flowers, Chocolate, And Poetry? Or Was It Something Else? Was It Being Able To Finish Someone's Jokes? Was It Having Absolute Faith That Someone Was There At Your Back? Was It Knowing Someone So Well That They Instantly Understood Why You Did The Things You Did—and Shared Those Same Beliefs?