I was on my back, looking up at Morelli through cobwebs, and my first thought was that the 7-Eleven victim had exacted revenge on me, and I’d been stun gunned. The cobwebs cleared, and I discounted stun gunning. “What happened?” I asked Morelli. “You fainted.” “That’s ridiculous.” “I agree, but if someone sent me a dead woman I might faint, too.” He was down on one knee, bending over me. “Are you ready to get up?” “I need a moment.” “Don’t take too long. People will think I’m proposing.

He's a good man," Ranger said. "And you?" "I'm better.

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

Turns out, that's how it is with weddings. You just keep getting in deeper and deeper until you want to throw up.

Maybe it was me," Grandma said."Sometimes they sneak out.Did I fart?

When I was painting, I was painting stories I was telling myself. When I look back at it, moving to writing was a very natural progression for me.

Stop the planet. I want to get off.