No matter how people try to dispute it, perception is reality. Its what you choose to believe that makes you the person you are.

Yes, I have loved, Ms. Lane, and although it's none of your business, I have lost. Many things.

Barrons laughed again. "And there, my dear Fio, you make one of Womankind's greatest mistakes: Falling in love with a man's potential. We so rarely share the same view of it, and even more rarely care to achieve it. Stop pining for the man you think I could be -- and take a good, long, hard look at the one I am.

Dubh is do?" I was incredulous. It was no wonder I hadn't been able to find the stupid word. "Should I be calling pubs poos?" "Dubh is Gaelic, Ms. Lane. Pub is not.

You're Mac, and I'm Jericho. And nothing else matters.

I flash him number seventeen of my thirty-five Looks of Death.

Home, Ms. Lane?” His deep voice was gently amused. “I have to call it something,” I said morosely. “They say home is where the heart is. I think mine’s satin-lined and six feet under.