"You are not a perfect woman.You have an evil temper, you’re as blind as a mole, you’re a deplorable poet, and frankly, your French accent could use some work.” Supporting himself on his elbows, Leo took her face in his hands. “But when I put those things together with the rest of you, it makes you into the most perfectly imperfect woman I’ve ever known."
"You seem to think you have a choice,"Cam said. "But you have it backwards. Love chooses you. The shadow moves as the sun commands."
"So you actually need spectacles,” Leo finally said.“Of course I do,” Marks said crossly. “Why would I wear spectacles if I didn’t need them?”“I thought they might be part of your disguise.”“My disguise?”“Yes, Marks, disguise. A noun describing a means of concealing someone’s identity. Often used by clowns and spies. And now apparently governesses. Good God, can anything be ordinary for my family?"
"Marriage would change hardly anything between us, except that we would end our arguments in a much more satisfying way. And of course I would have extensive legal rights over your body, your property, and all your individual freedoms, but I don't see what's so alarming about that."
"Was this some new level of depravity? Had he developed a spinster fetish?"
"I love you, Marks. My heart is completely and utterly yours. And unfortunately for you, the rest of me comes with it."