I just love historical fiction.

Namaste. It was a Nepalese greeting. It meant: The light within me bows to the light within you.

She's got a big belt around her hips. It has a shiny buckle with PRADA on it, which is Italian for insecure.

For mad I may be, but I will never be convenient.

It has an L on it. L for love. See? It's the key to the universe, Dad. You said you were looking for it. You told Mom you were. I found it for you so you don't have to look anymore. So you can come home at night.

The King walks. He nods. His glance is like God's touch - under it all things spring to life. A wave of his hand and a hundred musicians tear into the Handel, making a sound you've never heard before, and never will again. A sound that goes through you, through flesh and bone, and reorders the very beat of your heart.

Stop yelling. If everyone’s yelling, no one can be heard.