I drank lots of water and orange juice and took a multivitamin and iron supplement for breakfast, which was my regimen since Bill had come into my life and brought (along with love, adventure, and excitement) the constant threat of anemia.

Fiction just makes it all more interesting. Truth is so boring.

There's not much I dislike more than being addressed as "Hey you" and being poked with a finger.

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.

People are really interested in the concept of eternal youth in this plastic-surgery culture.

Life should imitate romance literature far more often.

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