Okay," I said. "I'd hoped to avoid this, but... Bill, I rescind your invitation into my house." Bill began walking backward to the door, a helpless look on his face, and my brush still in his hand. Eric grinned at him triumphantly. "Eric," I said, and his smile faded. "I rescind your invitation into my house." And backward he went, out my door and off my porch. The door slammed shut behind (or maybe in front of?) them.

Something always turns up. It always seems darkest before the dawn. When God closes a door he opens a window. All things happen for a reason. Into every life a little rain must fall. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger.

The world seemed a bad and terrible place, all its denizens suspect, and I the lamb wandering through the valley of death with a bell around my neck.

No matter what happens in public—no matter what—don’t doubt that I love you and care about your welfare . . . as much as I am able.

I had never realized a woman could have to struggle to keep her hands off a man, but here I was, digging my nails into my palms, staring at the inside of my eyelids as though I could maybe see through them if I peered hard enough.

i was momentarily sidetracked by the vision of Eric herding a cow into a trailer and driving it to the shoulder of the the interstate and shooing it into the trees.

Only a group lack of imagination could account for people not wondering what went on in the dark around them.