Most men think they are good drivers. Most women think they are good in bed. They aren't.

There's almost always a point in a book where something happens that triggers the rest of the plot.

One of the saddest realities is that we never know when our lives are at their peak. Only after it is over and we have some kind of perspective do we realize how good we had it a day, a month, five years ago.

Some people are like blue jeans- the older and more beat up they get, the better they look.

May this house stand until an ant drinks the ocean and a tortoise circles the world.

Even the handsomest men do not have the same momentary effect on the world as a truly beautiful woman does.

I feel like a cliche.