Oh, is that what's in the box? You threw my engagement ring at me?

God, I love you," he said, and laid his head on her belly, his arms locked around her hips. Madelyn slid her fingers into his hair. "It took you long enough," she said gently. "What I lack in quickness, I make up in staying power." "Meaning?" "That I'll still be telling you that fifty years from now." He paused and turned his head to kiss her stomach.

...We have seven people who knew the skewers were there: the wedding planner, the reception hall manager, the dressmaker, the florist, the veil-maker, the cake-maker, and the caterer. I haven't ruled out the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker, either.

A village somewhere was missing it's idiot.

Oh, is that what's in the box? You threw my engagement ring at me?

Are you making fun of my hero complex?' Yeah.

I have a real low tolerance for parasites, and you're so close to the limit that I'm already reaching for the flea powder.