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Love is not the absence of logicbut logic examined and recalculatedheated and curved to fitinside the contours of the heart
“If someone had asked, “How does this compare to kissing Kennedy?” I would have answered, “Who?
My last coherent thought, as Lucas took his time kissing and touching every part of me he could reach and my body arched into his, was: oh... so this is what all the fuss is about.”
And I miss–I don't know how else to say it–I miss both of you.”
The first time Kennedy kissed me, it stood to reason that at the same time, other people were splitting up. And the night Kennedy broke my heart, somewhere–maybe right there in my dorm, other people were falling in love.”
“I'd basically described myself: a quiet, studious bookworm who would go to bed at a decent hour. A non-partier who wouldn't bring a parade of boys through our room, or make it the floor headquarters for beer pong.”
“Choosing to be with you, isn't a difficult decision, Jacqueline...It's easy. Incredibly easy.”
And my personal favorite, “So when do we get to the junk-kicking?”