I need to look like an idiot at least twice a day to keep myself humble.

This is war,' I yelled through the door. Lucky for me,' Morelli said. 'I give good war.

Its always nice to have a stud muffin at the table.

Excuse me?" I said, palms down on the Formica tabletop. "Coffee? I thought we came here for pie." "I don't eat the kind of pie they serve here." I felt a flash of heat go through my stomach. I knew firsthand the kind of pie Ranger liked.

The dog ran into the kitchen, stuck his nose in Grandma's crotch, and snuffled. Dang," Grandma said. "Guess my new perfume really works. I'm gonna have to try it out at the seniors meeting.

I wasn’t sure anymore what made a good marriage. There had to be love, of course, but there were so many different kinds of love. And clearly, some love was more enduring than others.

Here's a basic difference between Morelli and me. My first thought was always of cake. His first thought was always of sex. Don't get me wrong. I like sex . . . a lot. But it's never going to replace cake.