I love you, Daisy. I love you so much I hurt.

I married a damned cereal killer

The point I was trying to make before you interrupted with your inventory
of my personality is that neither of us is going to be able to stay celibate for the next six months."

She dropped her eyes. If only he knew that she'd stayed that way all her life.

We'll be living in close quarters," he went on. "We're legally married, and it's only natural that we're going to get it on."

Get it on? His bluntness reminded her that none of this meant anything to him emotionally, and contrary to all logic, she'd wanted to hear something romantic. With some pique, she said, "In other words, you expect me to keep house, work for the circus, and 'get it on' with you."

He thought it over. "I guess that's about the size of it.

The engine roared to life. He ran toward her. She shot our of her parking space. He rushed to the side of her car. "Stop it, Kristy! You're overreacting! Let's talk about this." That was when she did the unthinkable. She rolled down the window, thrust out her hand, and gave Reverend Ethan Bonner the bird.

You try spending six months sitting at somebody's bedside, waiting for them to die and then tell me that the happy-ending love story isn't one of God's good gifts.

Eat your heart out. Oh, wait. You can’t. It’s not organic.