Dearest Annie, Roses are red. Violets are blue. I’m using my hand But I’m thinking of you. - Ronan P.S. Just to clarify, I’m using my hand to write this note…get your mind out of the gutter.

A picture is just a picture, but add music and there's emotion. There's a story.

Do you ever wish, Alexis, that your heart was just that little bit smaller, so that you didn't have to care quite so much?

So why not live with the magic? Be a kid again and believe in the fantastical. Life is more fun with a little smoke and mirrors.

The unknown is sexier that the revealed. All magic tricks are a disappointment once you learn how they’re done.

You’re virtually unknown over in the States. This could be the thing that helps you crack America. I can just see it now, a picture of you reclining in a pair of tighty whiteys advertising for Calvin Klein on the side of a skyscraper.”“Fuck, man. Are you a psychic? How did you know that’s my one true dream?

The man was more highly strung than Margaret Thatcher on the rag, God rest her.

I’d practically groped her under the guise of helping her get out a stain, but still, she looked like she found me about as appealing as second-hand underpants.

If I was into girls, I'd do you,” I tell him honestly. He leans forward conspiratorially. ”Psst, I'll let you in on a secret Fred,” he glances sheepishly from side to side. ”I actually have a cock. Don't tell anyone, it would ruin my reputation. But feel free to do me any time you want.

Will you promise to keep this to yourself, to not tell anyone of what we are?” By his words you’d think he was giving me a choice. Like I could say,no deal, honey bunch, I’m off to shout your secret from the rooftops, and he’d be like, oh no please don’t do that. Inreality, he’d have to kill me.

What was it about my obsession with romance that always made me feel embarrassed? Like it was a silly, girlish thing to obsess about. In reality, it was what we all wanted, right?

He’s sitting casually at my kitchen table peeling the skin off an applewith a pocket knife, a red apple that he has quite obviously appropriated from my fruit bowl, might I add.

You know,” he says, voice still low.“I have had nothing but trouble since you walked into my life.” “I’d walk straight back out of it if only you’d let me.

Could you bring me to Rita’s house before we go to the airport?” I ask. “There’s one last thing I need to ask her to do.” “That is on the other side of the river,” says Ethan.“I know. But I need to see her. Please, I’ll be eternally grateful.” He doesn’t say anything, but instead puts the car in gear and starts the engine. After we are driving for about two minutes he asks. “How grateful?” Ah, I see the old Ethan hasn’t disappeared then. I smile and lean over to place a light peck on his cheek. “This grateful,” I say to him.“Hmm, I think you can do better than that,” he chides in good humor.“You’re driving,” is all I say in reply.“I can pull over,” he answers smartly.

Sometimes you can be so deeply wrapped up in a person that the only way to deal with it is to use cruelty to push them away.