I laid my hand on top of theirs, and all I could think was, Is this how revolutions begin? Not with a proclamation or a riot, but with a few people in a room somewhere with their hands clasped and a purpose.

One of my rules is never explain. A writer is a lot like a magician, if you explain how the trick works then a lot of the magic turns mundane.

the pain of that first lost was still raw. You could deal with it, endure it, but never escape it.

Would you truly sleep with strangers?" "I don't know, I haven't met the strangers yet.

You lie like butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, Edward." He smiled. "I don't lie to you." "Really," I said. The smile became a grin. "Okay, not most of the time, anymore." His face sobered. "I'm not lying now.

Nicky looked down at me with a knowledge on his face that he was holding the monster in his arms. I'd have comforted him, but it would have been all lies.

Somehow I think Trophy Wives wear more makeup and less cutlery. But hey, I haven't ever met a Trophy Wife, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they know what I know, that the true way to a man's heart is six inches of metal between his ribs.