He can never respect someone who doesn't have the purest of intentions. She can never respect someone who doesn't agree (or pretend to agree) with every political stance she's ever taken. Both are focused on external issues, and neither can tolerate those who are inwardly focused and self indulgent (which includes almost everyone else on this list). She gets to rant and rave to a supportive audience, and he gets to give back rubs and write, "Fur is Murder!" in very neat letters for her next march. This isn't the hottest romance that ever was, but highly principled people aren't very sexy, let's face it.


While he finds her preoccupation with betrayal about as fresh and compelling as one of those Bridget Jones' Diary-type, bitter estrogen-fueled tales that former sorority sisters recommend to each other over nonfat chai lattes, she's still sort of sexy. Plus, her relentless suspicions belie a discriminating mind. She identifies with his pessimism, and she can see the fallen idealist behind the snarky curtain. Once she gets past the pain and he stops being such a pain, they both might become the simpering love-struck idiots they've always wanted to be.

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