What could it be like to find out, in a matter of minutes, that the person you believed the sun rose and set on was not the person you'd thought?

The act of reading is a partnership. The author builds a house, but the reader makes it a home.

Good people are good people; religion has nothing to do with it.

I think the 'New York Times' reviews overall tend to overlook popular fiction, whether you're a man, woman, white, black, purple or pink. I think there are a lot of readers who would like to see reviews that belong in the range of commercial fiction rather than making the blanket assumption that all commercial fiction is unworthy.

So much of marriage was implicit and nonverbal. Had I gotten so complacent I'd forgotten to communicate?

She had never been a pretty crier. She sobbed the way she did everything else - with passion and excess.

The first person you fell in love with stole your heart. The first person you made love with stole your soul. And if these were one and the same, you were doomed.