I am surrounded by my family, my beloved grandchildren, and my pack of dogs.

If you allowed yourself to hear or feel amusement, you would hear and feel pain.

You're insane, but you're my kind of man.

Your name is Lily Whitney. You are the woman I want at my side night and day. I want you to be the mother of my children someday. I want you for my lover. I want you for the person I turn to when the world gets to be too much.

The trouble is not really in being alone, it's being lonely. One can be lonely in the midst of a crowd, don't you think?

What does kiciciyapi mitawa mean?" He kept his head on her breasts. "What?" "You called me kicicyapi mitawa. It sounded so beautiful. It wasn't Japanese. What was it?" "It's the voice of the Lakota. It would sound silly in English." He cupped her breast, his fingers moving lightly over her skin. His breath warm on her heart. "I want to know. It didn't sound silly when you said it. It sounded...beautiful. It made me feel beautiful. And loved." He kissed her breast. "I called you my heart. And you are.

You are such a chicken. Bock. Bock. Bock." He refused to allow her very bad chicken impression to ruffle his feathers. He was above petty name-calling.