You've mistaken me for someone else. Do not wait on me, Ms. Lane. Do not construct your world around mine. I'm not that man." "Screw you, Barrons." "I'm not that man, either.

I hope when I'm ninety-five the only things I want are free: love, family, a good home-cooked meal.

Are we, like, having a conversation?" "Did you just, like, ask me for advice and listen with an open mind? If so, then yes, I would call this a conversation

Beautiful women rarely possess sufficient depth of character to survive without their pretty feathers.

I was in Cancun, Mexico, sitting in a disappearing-edge swimming pool, on a bar stool that was actually under the water, watching palm trees sway in a sultry breeze against the unmistakable aqua splendor of the Caribbean Sea; drinking coconut, lime, and tequila from a scooped-out pineapple, with salt spray of breaking surf and sun kissing my skin. Translation: I'd died and gone to heaven.

Gazelles didn't lie down with lions, at least not unbloodied and alive.

It's not my fault who I am. The only think that's my fault is what I choose to do