“It'sloot!" he yelled, standing on his tiptoes so he could get in Clarisse's face. "If you don't like it, you can kiss my quiver!”

“But because two can play at this game, I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. Right on his bruise.”

“You intolerable lunatic," he snarled at me, and then he caught my face between his hands and kissed me.”

“He could not stand. It was not
That he could not thrive, he was born
With everything but the will –
That can be deformed, just like a limb.
Death was more interesting to him.
Life could not get his attention.”

“Yes!" Narissus unslung his bow and grabbed an arrow from his dusty quiver. "The first one who get that bronze, I will like youas much as I like me. I might even kiss you, right after I kiss my reflection!"

"Oh my gods!" the nymphs squealed.”

“I'd smile so much my face would crack in two
Then you could fix it with your kissing glue
I'd like that
Yes, I'd like that”

“He’d spent his entire exile schooling himself to face that he would never get what he wanted. People didn’t, sometimes. So you made a life as best you could.”

“When I turn around, he cups my face in his hands and he kisses me so deeply that I don't know who is breathing for who, but his mouth and tongue taste like warm honey. I don't know how long it lasts, but when I let go of him, I miss it already.”

“I loved you when you opened like a lily to the heat; you see I’m just another snowman standing in the rain and sleet who loved you with his frozen love, his second hand physique, with all he is and all he was a thousand kisses deep.”

“He was standing leaning against the door frame; now he stood up straight. "How should I have kissed you? Is there an other way you like it?”