You don't look so hot, Adrien." "Yeah, well I'm having a bad heart day." His upper lip curled in a semblance of a smile. "Tell me about it.

Tiffs among the faggots were apparently the stuff of quiet merriment.

I’m not going to let go of you. I’m going to hold you all night. So go ahead and feel whatever you feel. If you’re still craving cocaine, go ahead. You’re safe. You can crave it all you want, but I won’t let go, and if you still feel like you can’t trust yourself in the morning, and it’s what you want, I’ll drive you to rehab myself. Okay?" ~ Max

He was probably selfish in the sack. Probably selfish and greedy and...unsophisticated. And hung like a horse.

Then, like a born and bred asshole, he added to the sheriff, "He writes murder mysteries.

If there was one life skill everyone on the planet needed, it was the ability to think with critical objectivity

Kit, you're forty. You look thirty. You act...well, never mind. You're carrying on like you think you're seventy