Anyone who wasn't half-stoned on pain meds would have instantly realized what a really bad idea this plan was, but since that didn't include me, I didn't worry about it.

I’m never wrong? Who besides Republican presidents and evil masterminds can say that with a straight face?

He shifted over without comment, lifting the blankets, and I scrambled into the warm sheets beside him. He smelled like soap and sleep and bare skin. He smelled familiar. Not the deja vu familiar of Guy or Mel. Familiar like...the ache in your chest of homesickness, of longing for harbor after weeks of rough seas or craving a fire's warmth after snow--or wanting back something you should never have given away.

He went through the cupboards, found the olive oil, and started upstairs again. He glanced down at the green and gold label and had to bite back a laugh at the words Extra Virgin. That about summed it up.

Drink your coffee -- people in Africa are sleeping.

You got a little bit of an attitude, Mr. English, if you don't mind my saying so. I don't mind.

Hearts got broken every day. Nobody died from that. But it did kind of fade the sunlight and drain the color from the days.