I'm just the librarian. I can only give you the books. I can't give you the answers.

And have her back by midnight. " "Is that some powerful Caster hour?" "No. It's her curfew.

These are the kinds of things a guy thinks about when he visits his own grave.

I don't know what happened. One minute, I was dreamin' about a fat piece of George Clooney and a hot date with some brown sugar pound cake, and the next thing I knew, the house was coming down on us.

South of Somewhere and north of Nowhere.

The lonely reality of the truth-that the most important person in your life suddenly ceased to exist. Which on a bad day meant maybe she had never existed at all. And on a good day, there was the other fear. That even if you were a hundred percent sure she had been there, maybe you were the only one who cared or remembered.

I believe the term you’re searching for is smoking jacket. I find, now that I have whole days of sunshine ahead of me, I’ve discovered there is more to life than formal haberdashery.