Kissing Sinclair was like making out with a sexy timber wolf— he was licking my fangs and nipping me lightly and growling under his breath and it was...oh, it was really something.

I zoomed in on the shoe department like a blonde homing pigeon. Shoes, shoes everywhere! Ah, sweet shoes. I truly think you can take the measure of a civilization by looking at its footwear.

I know it's practical for career women, but sneakers with suits? Jesus couldn't possibly weep harder than I did.

I walked in on my folks doing it doggy style less than four hours ago." "Waitress!" Jonas screamed, clicking his fingers madly. "Bring two!" then, more quietly,"You want a neck massage? A bedtime story? A bullet in the ear?

You don't scare me, Cadence Jones. I've lived with crazy, I've ridden with crazy, I've vacationed with crazy, I've visited crazy in various hospitals, I've sat in on therapy sessions with crazy. Frankly, I think women who don't have major emotional disorders are really very dull.

Take your hands off her, Sinclair told the guy behind me, Or they'll write books about what I'll do to you.

Elizabeth Anne Taylor April 25, 1974 - April 25, 2004 Our Sweetheart, Only resting