Nicole Williams

“Still trying to save the world?” “Always,” I said, “and in case you haven’t noticed, it’s working. The world is still here.”

“But you make the rest hard too. Make me work for you. Make me earn your love. It's worth whatever price. Whatever cost. Don't let me come to expect easy with you. Make me want to work hard for you.”

“In the depths of hell roasting on a spit if it meant getting to be close to you.”

“Don't let the fear of losing them keep you from loving them.”

“See? That’s it,” he said, waving his hand. “That’s part of what makes us so great, Luce. I’m crazy. You’re crazy. Together, we make our own brand of crazy.”

“I didn't know silence could be that loud.”

“You’re worth ever bead of sweat and every groan of frustration. You’re worth the work, you’re worth the wait, you’re worth everything I have to give you.” I moved closer, so our foreheads were pressed together, our eyes aligned. “So make me work for it. Make me work hard for it. I will. You won’t hear one complaint from me working myself to the bone for you. Not one.”

“Hi, I’m Jude Ryder Jamieson,” he began, extending his hand. I took it, shaking it. He held onto it when I tried to pull it back. “My mom left when I was thirteen. My dad’s serving a life sentence for killing a young kid. I spent the last five years in a boys’ home being bullied, beat, and abused by the kids, the staff, and even the goddamn dog. I sold drugs. I did drugs. I got arrested. A lot. I screwed a lot of faceless women.” He paused, sucking in a breath. “And then I met one whose face I couldn’t forget. I fell in love with her. I hurt her because I fell in love with her and was afraid she was going to leave me the way everyone else had.” He lifted his other hand, cradling mine between his. “I still love her.”

“...and specimens like this confirmed there had been some kind of divine rule in the universe because no natural selection process was up to the task of creating something like him. This was some god’s, somewhere’s, handiwork.”

“Every morning we get a chance to be different. A chance to change. A chance to be better. Your past is your past. Leave it there. Get on with the future part, honey”

“Wealth can be created. Wit and intelligence can't.”

“Your whole world ceases to exist and you're nothing but a shell of a person you once were. Your mom has dealt with it her way, me in mine, and you in yours," he said, lifting his hand off of John's gravestone and rising. "Your mom hates the world, I avoid it, and you try to save it.”

“I try to keep the happy memories. If that's what you call selective memories, I'm good with that.”

“My dad had once told me, crimson-red deep in “the talk,” that with sons, all he had to worry about was one penis, but with a daughter, he had to worry about everyone else’s.”

“Everyone was going crazy, like they’d just witnessed the birth of Jesus and the invention of electricity at the same time. Jude was a rock star, their savior, and they were paying him homage.”