I want you cool and regal, earthy and impertinent, spoiling for a fight and abashed at your own temper. I want you flushed with exertion and rosy with sleep. I want you teasing and provocative, somber and thoughtful. I want every emotion, every mood, every year in a lifetime to come. I want you beside me, to encourage and argue with me, to help me and let me help you. I want to be your champion and lover, your mentor and student.

The lower your decolletage, the less the need for conversation.

Give me a strong back, over a soft heart.

She'd stood by that creed. No softness, because the world wasn't soft; lots of laughter, because if you were in on the joke, the joke couldn't be on you; And no wanting what you couldn't take, because the world never gave. Or so she'd thought.

No one ever fell in love gracefully.

You can figure out what the villain fears by his choice of weapons.

Conscience is like a pet: If you spoil it by too much attention it'll start yipping at the most inopportune times.