What are you thinking?" he asks. I know Gage hates it when I cry - he is completely undone by the sight of tears - so I blink hard against the sting. "I'm thinking how thankful I am for everything," I say, "even the bad stuff. Every sleepless night, every second of being lonely, every time the car broke down, every wad of gum on my shoe, every late bill and losing lottery ticket and bruise and broken dish and piece of burnt toast." His voice is soft. "Why, darlin'?" "Because it all led me here to you.

If I were an opera singer, I"d have sung you an aria. If I were an artist, I would have painted your portrait. But cooking is what I'm best at.

For thousands of nights I dreamed of making love to you. No man on earth has ever hated sunrise as I do.

I loved him so much, loved his fearlessness, his strength, even the ambition that would someday take him away from me.

Somehow I knew that no matter what I chose to tell or to keep secret, he would understand.

I grasp reality, but sometimes I like to choke it into submission.

Beatrix, do you know what happens to girls who ask such naughty questions?” “They’re ravished in haylofts?” she inquired hopefully.