If she wasn't your grandmother I'd shoot her." Ranger

You could be the Mega Mage of wizards. You could rule Minionfire. Do you really think so?' Yeah, but you'd have to make a deal with the wood elves.' I don't like the wood elves.' They're okay. They're misunderstood.

Is there anything else you need from me?" Ranger asked. "Not right now." "There will come a time," Ranger said. "Let me know when." And he disconnected. I opened the freezer and stuck my head in to cool off. If there'd been any more innuendo in that conversation, I could have fried an egg on my forehead.

Ranger cradled my face in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe the tears from my eyes. "The ceremony is over. Can you make it back to the car?" I nodded. "I'm okay now. Am I red and blotchy from crying?" "Yes," Ranger said, brushing a kiss across my forehead. "I love you anyway." "There's all kinds of love," I said. Ranger took me by the hand and led me back to the SUV. "This is the kind that doesn't call for a ring. But a condom might come in handy." "That's not love," I told him. "That's lust.

Honey, a man can't keep his gun in a cookie jar. It just isn't done.

When Grandma Mazur is talking about the reason for the improved play of her 91-year-old bowling teammate, she said: "She's doing better now that we got her the longer tubing to her oxygen tank.

The way I see it, living in New Jersey is a challenge, what with the toxic waste and the eighteen wheelers and the armed schizophrenics." Connie Rosolli